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method: 


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et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

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I. 


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%)'^^  James  Audubon. 

^tp'Tfli    BY     H,^      'VlDOW. 

■  .   *■ 

■■^H   <iN  IKTl«t*-'''*':Tls>JI  1%>-  /AA-,  aHAKT  WILSON.  ^ 


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/( 


THE 


LIFE 


OF 


John  James  Audubon, 


THE  NA  TURALIST. 


Edited   by    His   Widow. 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY  JAS.  GRANT  WILSON. 


NEW  YORK: 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS, 

27  AND  29  West  23D  St. 
1890. 


Intered  .^rdlng  to  Act  «f  Oongre«.  In  th.  y«,r  ,8«, 

MRS.   JOHN    J.    ATTDTTBOW 

to  th.  CMk'.  >ffl,^  of  the  District  Court  of  the  UnVtS  BUte.  t^  ^ 

Southern  Oiatriot  of  New  York. 


IIS 


! 


fO  mr  Kim)  friend, 
Gaw.  JAMES  GRANT  WILSON 

T0LX7HE  IS  DEDIOTED  BY 
LUOY  AUDUBON. 


*^*^^^I^^d^y§^^3:^^^v»3 


INTRODUCTION. 


In  the  summer  of  1867,  the  widow  of  John  James  Audubcn 
completed  with  the  aid  of  a  friend,  a  memoir  of  the  great  natu- 
ralist, and  soon  after  received  overtures  from  a  London  pub- 
lishing house  for  her  work.  Accepting  their  proposition  for 
its  publication  in  England,  Mrs.  Audubon  forwarded  the  MSS., 
consisting  in  good  part  of  extracts  from  her  husband's  journals 
and  episodes,  as  he  termed  his  dehghtful  reminiscences  of 
adventure  in  various  parts  of  the  New  World.  The  London 
publishers  pi  ced  these  MSS.  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Robert 
Buchanan,  who  prepared  from  them  a  single  volume  contain- 
ing about  one  third  of  the  original  manuscript. 

The  following  pagts  are  substantially  the  recently  published 
work,  reproduced  with  some  additions,  and  the  omission 
of  several  objectionable  passages  inserted  by  the  London  ed- 
itor. Should  Mrs.  Audubon  hereafter  receive  her  manuscript, 
containing  sufficient  material  for  two  volumes  of  printed  mat- 
ter, and  including  many  charming  episodes  "  born  from  his 
traveling  thigh, "  as  Ben  Jonson  quaintly  expressed  it, 
the  American  public  may  confidently  look  forward  to  other 
volumes,  uniform  with  this  one,  of  the  Naturalist's  vn-itings. 

I  do  not  deem  if  necessary  to  say  aught  in  commenda- 
tion of  the  labors  of  the  loving  and  gentle  wife  in  preparing  the 
following  admirable  memoir  of  her  grand  and  large-hearted 
husband, — 

"That  cheerful  one,  who  knoweth  all 
The  songs  of  all  the  winded  choristers, 
And  in  one  sequence  of  melodious  sound, 
Pours  out  their  music." 

Her  delightful  volume  will  better  speak  for  itself.  Noi 
do  I  deem  it  requisite  to  dwell  at  length  on  the  works  of 


3P I 


IV 


Introduction, 


W 


Aadubon,  pronounced  by  Baron  Cuvier  to  h"  "  the  most  splen- 
did monujnents  which  art  has  erected  in  honor  of  ornithology. ' 

He  was  an  admirable  specimen  of  the  Hero  as  a  man  of 
science.  To  quote  an  eloquent  writer:  *' For  sixty  years  of 
more  he  followed,  with  more  than  religious  devotion,  a  beautiful 
and  elevated  pursuit,  enlarging  its  boundaries  by  his  discov* 
cries,  and  illustrating  its  objects  by  his  art.  In  all  climates 
and  in  all  weathers  ;  scorched  by  burning  suns,  drenched  by 
piercing  rains,  frozen  by  the  fiercest  colds  ;  now  diving  fear- 
lessly into  the  densest  forest,  now  wandering  alone  over  the 
most  savage  regions  ;  in  perils,  in  difficulties,  and  in  doubts  ; 
with  no  companion  to  cheer  his  way,  far  from  the  smiles  and 
applause  of  society  ;  listening  only  to  the  sweet  music  of  birds, 
or  to  the  sweeter  music  of  his  own  thoughts,  he  faithfully  kept 
his  path.  The  records  of  man's  life  contain  few  nobler  ex- 
amples of  strength  of  purpose  and  indefatigable-  energy.  Led 
on  solely  by  his  pure,  lofty,  kindling  entliusi?.sm,  no  thirst  for 
wealth,  no  desire  of  distinction,  no  restless  ambition  of  ec- 
centric character,  could  have  induced  him  to  undergo  as  many 
sacrifices,  or  sustained  him  under  so  many  trials.  Higher 
principles  and  worthier  motives  alone  enabled  him  to  meet 
such  discouragements  and  accomplish  such  miracles  of 
achievement  He  has  enlarged  and  enriched  the  domains  of 
a  pleasing  and  useful  science  ;  he  has  revealed  to  us  the  ex- 
istence of  many  species  of  birds  before  unknown  ;  he  has 
given  us  more  accurate  information  of  the  forms  and  habits 
of  those  that  were  known  ;  he  has  corrected  the  blunders  of 
his  predecessors  ;  and  he  has  imparted  to  the  study  of  natu- 
ral history  the  grace  and  fascination  of  romance." 

Of  the  man  himself,  Christopher  North  said,  after  speak- 
ing lovingly  and  appreciatively  of  him,  "  He  is  the  greatest 
Artist  in  his  own  walk,  that  ever  lived."  The  love  of  his  vo- 
cation, after  innumerable  trials,  successes  and  disappointments 
gave  the  lie  to  the  Quo  Jit  Macanas  of  Horace,  and  was  to  the 
end  of  his  long  life  most  intense.  Neither  his  friends.  Sir  Wal- 
ter Scott,  or  John  Wilson,  notably  happy  as  they  were  in  their 
home  relations  occupied  a  place  in  the  domestic  circle  of  hus- 
band and  father,  with  a  more  beautiful  display  of  kind,  enno- 
bling, and  generous  devotioni  than  John  James  Audubon ;  and 


Introduction. 


nothing  in  his  whole  character  stands  out  in  a  purer  and  more 
nonorable  light,  than  his  discharge  of  all  the  duties  of  home. 
In  private  life  his  virtues  endeared  him  to  a  large  circle  of 
devoted  admirers  ;  his  sprightly  conversation,  with  a  slight 
French  accent ;  his  soft  and  gentle  voice  ;  his  frank  and  fine 
face,  "  aye  gat  him  friends  in  ilka  place."  With  those  whose 
privilege  it  was  to  know  the  Naturalist,  so  full  of  fine  enthusi- 
asm and  intelligence  ;  with  so  much  simplicity  of  character, 
frankness  and  genius,  he  will  continue  to  live  in  their  memories, 
though  "  with  the  buried  gone  ;  "  while  to  the  artistic,  litera- 
ry, and  scientific  world,  lie  has  left  an  imperishable  name  that 
is  njt  in  the  keeping  of  history  alone.  Long  after  the  bronze 
statue  of  the  naturalist  that  we  hope  soon  to  see  erected  in 
the  Central  Park,  shall  have  been  wasted  and  worn  beyond 
recognition,  by  the  winds  and  rains  of  Heaven  ;  while  the 
towering  and  snow-covered  peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
known  as  Mount  Audubon,  shall  rear  its  lofty  head  among 
the  clouds  ;  while  the  little  wren  chirps  about  our  homes,  and 
the  robin  and  reed-bird  sing  in  the  green  meadows  ;  while  the 
melody  of  the  mocking-bird  is  heard  in  the  cypress  swamps 
of  Louisiana,  or  the  shrill  scream  of  the  eagle  on  the  frozen 
shores  of  the  Northern  seas,  the  name  of  John  James  Audu- 
bon, the  gifted  Artist,  the  ardent  lover  of  Nature,  and  the 
admirable  writer,  will  live  in  the  hearts  of  his  grateful  coun- 
trymen. 

In  the  preface  to  the  London  edition  of  this  work,  I  find 
the  following  just  and  generous  words  : — 

"  Audubon  was  a  man  of  genius,  with  the  courage  of  a 
lion  and  the  simplicity  of  a  child.  One  scarcely  knows  which 
to  admire  most — the  mighty  determination  which  enabled  him 
to  carry  out  his  great  work  in  the  face  of  difficulties  so  huge, 
or  the  gentle  and  guileless  sweetness  with  which  he  through- 
out shared  his  thoughts  and  aspirations  with  liis  wife  and 
children.  He  was  more  like  a  child  at  the  mother's  kne«, 
than  a  husband  at  the  hearth — so  free  was  the  prattle,  so  thor- 
ough the  confidence.  Mrs.  Audubon  appears  to  have  been  a 
wife  in  every  respect  worthy  of  such  a  man  :  willing  to  sacri 
fice  her  personal  comfort  at  any  moment  for  the  furtherance 
of  his  great  schemes  ;  ever  ready  with  kiss  and  counsel  when 


VI 


Introduction, 


•uch  were  most  needed  ;  never  failing  for  a  moment  in  hei 
faith  that  Audubon  was  destined  to  be  one  of  the  great  leork* 
ers  of  the  earth. 

"  The  man's  heart  was  restless  ;  otherwise  he  would  nevef 
have  achieved  so  much.  He  must  wander,  he  must  vagabon- 
dizv?,  he  must  acquire  ;  he  was  never  quite  easy  at  the  hearth. 
His  love  for  Nature  was  passionate  indeed,  pursuing  in  all  re* 
gions,  burning  in  him  to  the  last.  Among  the  most  touch* 
ing  things  in  the  diary,  are  the  brief  exclamations  of  joy  when 
something  in  the  strange  city — a  flock  of  wild  ducks  overhead 
in  London,  a  gathering  of  pigeons  on  the  trees  of  Paris — re- 
ininds  him  of  the  wild  life  of  wood  and  plain.  He  was  boy-like 
to  the  last,  glorying  most  when  out  of  doors. 

"  Of  the  work  Audubon  has  done,  nothing  need  be  said 
in  praise  here.  Even  were  I  competent  to  discuss  his  merits 
as  an  ornithologist  and  ornithological  painter,  I  should  be  si- 
lent, for  the  world  has  already  settled  those  merits  in  full.  I 
may  trust  myself,  however,  to  say  one  word  in  praise  of  Au- 
dubon as  a  descriptive  writer.  Some  of  his  reminiscences  of 
adventure,  some  of  which  are  published  in  this  book,  seem  to 
me  to  be  quite  as  good,  in  vividness  of  presentment  and  care« 
fill  colorings  as  anything  I  have  ever  read." 

J.  G.  W. 

$1  St.  Mark's  Place, 

New  York,  April,  1869. 


nil 

■J 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Audubon's  Ancestry — His  Childhood  —  First  Visit  to  America— 
The  Bake  well  Family — Aspirations — Youthful  Recollections— 
A  Marvellous  Escape.  II 

CHAPTER  II. 

Result  of  Audubon's  Voyage  to  France — Renewal  of  Bird-hunting 
Pursuits— Retiun  to  America. 23 

CHAPTER  III. 

Return  of  Mrs.  Audubon  to  her  Father's  House  —  Audubon  and 
Rosier  move  to  Hendersonville 34 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Return  Tourney  to  Hendersonville  —  Terrible  Adventure  on  the 
Prairie  —  Starts  iu  Business  at  Hendersonville,  and  Succeeds 
—  Commences  to  draw  Portraits.         ....       46 

CHAPTER  V. 
Rambles  in  Kentucky — Daniel  Boone,  the  Famous  Hunter.      59 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Audubon  leaves  Cincinnati  with  Captain  Cummings  —  Arrival  at 
Natchez  —  Departure  for  New  Orleans — Arrival  at  New  Or- 
leans—  Want  of  Success  —  Vanderlyn,  the  Painter  — Audu- 
bon leaves  New  Orleans  for  Kentucky — Return  to  New  Or- 
leans—  Review  of  Work  done  since  leaving  Home.  ^i 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Wife  and  Sons  arrive  at  New  Orleans  —  Difficulties  of  Obtaining  a 
livelihood — Audubon's  Arrival  at  N.Uchtz  —  Audubon  stud 


u 


•  •• 

vm 


Contents, 


ies  Oil  Painting— Visit  to  Bayou  Sara — Leaves  for  Loab 
villewilh  his  son  Victor — Wanderings  through  the  Wilds—* 
Residence  at  Louisville  —  The  Waste  of  Waters  — The  Flood" 
ed  Forest. 88 

CHAPTER  VIIL 

Audubon  reaches  Philadelphia  —  Introduction  to  Sully  the  Painter 

—  Meetings  with  Rosier  and  Joseph  Mason — Audubon  leaves 
Philadelphia  —  Arrival  at  New  York — Leaves  New  York, 
and  arrives  at  Albany — Visit  to  Niagara  —  A  Voyage  down 
the  Ohio  to  the  South  —  Arrival  at  Cincinnati— Turns  Dan- 
cing-master. •        • 100 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Audubon  Sails  from  New  Orleans  for  England  on  board  the  Delos 

—  Incidents  of  the  Voyage  —  Arrival  at  Liverpool  —  Visit  to 
Manchester  ^Opening  of  Subscription-book  for  great  work- 
Edinburgh— Drawings  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Institution.    Ii8 

CHAPTER  X. 

Edmburgh— The  Royal  Society  — Scott— Edinburgh  People  — 
Sydney  Smith  and  a  Sermon  —  Miss  O'Neill  the  Actress  — 
Mrs.  Grant  of  Laggan  —  Prospectus  of  the  Great  Work.     135 

CHAPTER  XL 

Provincial  Canvass  for  Subscribers  —  Visit  to  London— The  Great 
Work  in  Progress  —  Horrors  of  London.     .        .        .        149 

CHAPTER  Xn. 

Visit  to  Paris  —  Baron  Cuvier —  Reception  at  .the  Academy  of  Sci- 
ences —  Farewell  to  France. 161 

CHAPTER  Xm. 

Return  to  London^ Sets  Sail  for  America — Friends  in  New 
York. 181 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Meeting  with  his  Wife  and  Sons  — Return  with  his  Wife  to 
England  — Provincial  Canvass  — East  Florida.    .       •        197 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Flordian  Episodes  —  The  live  Oakers.      .       .        •       •       ^ 


Contents,  ^ 

CHAPTER  XVn. 
Third  Florida  Epiiode :  Spring  Garden.     .       •  .       aafl 

CHAPTER  XVm. 
Fifth  Florida  Episode :  Deer  Hunting.        ....       335 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Sixtb  Florida  Episode :  Sandy  Island.        ....       243 

CHAPTER  XX. 
Seventh  Florida  Episode :  The  Wreckers.  .       •       •       349 

CHAPTER  XXL 
Eighth  Florida  Episode:  The  Turtlers,       ....        357 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Ninth  Florida  Episode:  Death  of  a  Pirate.  ...        367 

CHAPTER  XXm. 
In  America:  Episode  in  New  Brunswick.  .        ,        .        374 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
Episode  in  Maine :  The  Maine  Lumbermen,       .       .       ,       381 

chaptp:r  XXV. 

Viait  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy. ,        288 

CHAPTER  XXVL 
Return  to  Boston  —  Wanderings  in  the  Neighborhood -- Voyage 
to  Labrador  in  the  Schooner  Ripley —  Misadventures  at  Little 
River  —  Seal  and  Mud  Islands  —  The  Gut  of  Canseau.        295 

CHAPTER  XXVn. 
En  Route  to  Labrador— Gut  of  Canseau  —  Magdalene  Island  — 
The  Inhabitants  — Omitholigical  Notes  —  Birds  on  the  Rock 
—  First  Impressions  of  Labrador  — Halifax  Eggers.     .        306 


CHAPTER  XXVm. 
udor  Episodes :  The  Eggers  of  Labrador. 


317 


CHAFT^^  ^XrX. 

Notes  in  Labrador— Indians  — Civilities  on  Board  the  Quebec 
Cutter— The  Fur  Company  —  Severe  Weather  —  Winds  and 


Contents, 

Rain  —  Excursions  on  Shore  —  Hut  of  a  Labrador  Seal-Catch* 
er^  Great  Macatine  Islands  ^  OfiScera'  Bivouac  Ashore.    323 


CHAPTER  XXX. 
Labrador  Episodes :  The  Squatters  of  Labrador. 


35  « 


CHAPTER  XXXI, 

Nstes  on  Labrador— Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  —  St.  George's  Bay, 
Newfoundland  —  Land  on  Ruy's  Island  —  Wanderings  Over- 
land—  Pictou— Truro  and  the  Bay  of  Fundy — Arrival  at 
Halifax,  Nova  Scotia— >  Arrival  at  New  York.  .  359 

CHAPTER  XXXIL 
Journal  Resumed — Washington  Irving  —  Wanderings  Souths 
Florida  Excursion  Abandoned  —  Returns  North— Sails  for 
England  —  Visit  to  Baron  Rothschild  —  Removal  to  Edinburgh 
^Return  to  London  —  Embarks  with  much  Live  Stock  to 
New  York  —  Notes  by  the  Way.        ....         376 

CHAPTER  XXXin. 
In  America  —  Philadelphia  —  Boston  —  Friends  and  Birds  —  Meet- 
ing with  Daniel  Webster  —  Back  to  New  York  —  Social  Meet- 
ings—  Washington  —  Two  Letters  of  Washington  Irving  — 
Interview  with  the  President  —  Proposed  Scientific  Expedi- 
tion. .......     386 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
Excursion  South — Starts  in  Cutter  for  Galveston  Bay,  Texas  — 
Barataria  Bay  —  Great  Hunting  Excursion  with  a  Squatter  — 
Notes  in  Texas  —  Buffalo  Bayou  —  Texas  Capitol  and 
Houses  of  Congress  —  Reaches  New  Orleans  —  In  England 
Again  —  Literary  Labors  —  Back  to  America.  .  400 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
Excursion  to  the  Great  Western  Prairies  —  Up  the  Missouri  —  Riv- 
er Pictures  —  The     Mandans  —  The    "  Medicine  Lodge"  — 
Ricaree  Indians— Fort   Union  —  Buffalo   Hunt— Small- Pox 
among  the  Indians  —  Return  to  New  York.  .        417 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
Andubon^s  Last  Days  —  His  Habits  —  Love  of  Music  —  Description 
of  Audubon  Park  —  His  Library  and  Studio  —  Visitors  —  Ex- 
hibition of  Drawings  —  Mental  Gloaming  —  Loss  of  Sight  — 
The  Naturalist*s  Death  and  Funeral.        .        .        .  435 


¥ 


Life   of   Audubon 


CHAPTER  I.       , 

Ahduboti's  Ancestry  —  His  Childhood — First  Visit  to  America- 
The  Bakewcll  Family  —  Aspirations—  Youthful  Recoiltctiont-^ 
A  Marvellom  Escape. 

HE  name  of  Audubon  is  of  Frencli  origin  ;  it  ia 
extremely  rare,  and  while  confined  in  America 
to  the  family  of  the  naturalist,  has  in  France  been 
traced  only  among  his  ancestry.  Audubon  has  told  us 
all  that  he  knew  of  his  relations.  He  writes  :  "  John 
Audubon  my  grandfather  was  born  at  the  small  village 
of  Sable  d'Olonne,  in  La  Vendue,  with  a  small  harbor, 
forty-five  miles  south  from  Nantes.  He  was  a  poor  fisher- 
man with  a  numerous  family,  twenty-one  of  whom  grew  to 
maturity.  There  was  but  one  boy  besides  my  father,  he 
being  the  twentieth  born,  and  the  only  one  of  the  numer- 
ous family  who  lived  to  a  considerable  age.  In  subse- 
quent years,  when  I  visited  Sable  d'Olcnne,  the  old 
inhabitants  told  me  that  they  had  seen  the  whole  of  this 
family,  including  both  parents,  at  church  several  times  on 
Sunday." 

The  father  of  the  naturalist  appears  to  have  caught  at 
an  early  age  the  restless  spirit  of  his  times,  and  his  father, 
who  saw  in  it  the  only  hope  the  youth  had  of  obtaining 
distinction,  encouraged  his  love  of  adventure.  He  him- 
self says  of  his  start  in  life  :  "  When  T  was  twelve  years  of 
age  my  father  provided  me  with  a  shirt,  a  dress  of  warm 
clothing,  his  blessing,  and  a  cane,  and  sent  me  out  to  seek 
my  fortune." 


12 


Life  of  Audubon. 


!  I 


(M 


!li 


The  youth  went  to  Nantes,  and  falling  in  with  th« 
captain  of  a  vessel  bound  on  a  fishing  voyage  to  the  coast 
of  America,  he  shipped  on  board  as  a  boy  before  the  mast 
He  continued  at  sea,  and  by  the  age  of  seventeen  was 
rated  as  an  able-bodied  seaman.  At  twenty-one  he  com- 
manded a  /essel,  and  at  twenty-five  he  was  owner  and 
captain  of  a  small  craft.  Purchasing  other  vessels,  the 
enterprising  adventurer  sailed  with  his  little  fleet  to  the 
West  Indies.  He  reached  St.  Domingo,  and  there  fortune 
dawned  upon  him.  After  a  few  more  voyages  he  pur- 
chased a  small  estate.  The  prosperity  of  St.  Domingo, 
already  French,  so  influenced  the  mariner's  interests,  that 
in  ten  years  he  realized  a  considerable  fortune.  Obtain- 
ing an  appointment  from  the  Governor  of  St.  Domingo, 
he  returned  to  France,  and  in  his  official  capacity  became 
intimate  with  influential  men  connected  with  the  govern- 
ment of  the  First  Empire.  Through  their  good  offices  he 
obtained  an  appointment  in  the  Imperial  navy  and  the 
command  of  a  small  vessel  of  war.  A  warm  sympathy 
with  the  changes  wrought  by  the  revolution,  and  an 
idolatrous  worship  of  Napoleon,  must  have  contributed 
greatly  to  his  success. 

While  resident  in  France  he  purchased  a  beautifiil 
estate  on  the  Loire,  nine  miles  from  Nantes ; — there, 
after  a  life  of  remarkable  vicissitude,  the  old  sailor  died, 
in  1818,  at  the  great  age  of  ninety-five,  regretted,  as 
he  deserved  to  be,  on  account  of  his  simplicity  of  man- 
ners and  perfect  sense  of  honesty.  Our  Audubon  has 
described  his  father  as  a  man  of  good  proportions, 
measuring  five  feet  ten  inches  in  height,  having  a  hardy 
constitution  and  the  agility  of  a  wild  cat.  His  manners, 
it  is  asserted,  were  most  polished,  and  his  natural  gifts 
improved  by  self-education.  He  had  a  warm  and  even 
violent  temper,  described  as  rising  at  times  into  "the 
blast  of  a  hurricane,"  but  readily   appeased.     While 


His  Early  Tears. 


U 


residing  in  the  West  Indies,  he  frequently  visited  North 
America,  and  with  some  foresight  made  purchases  of  land 
in  the  French  colony  of  Louisiana,  in  Virginia,  and  Penn- 
sylvania. In  one  of  his  American  visits  he  met  and 
mirried  in  Louisiana  a  lady  of  Spanish  extraction,  named 
Anne  Moynette,  whose  beauty  and  wealth  may  have  made 
her  equally  attractive.  A  family  of  three  sons  and  one 
daughter  blessed  this  union,  and  the  subject  of  this 
biographical  sketch  was  the  youngest  of  the  sons.  A  few 
years  after  his  birth  Madame  Audubon  accompanied  her 
husband  to  the  estate  of  Aux  Cayes  in  the  island  of  St. 
Domingo,  and  there  miserably  perished  during  the  memo- 
rable rising  of  the  negro  population. 

The  black  revolt  so  endangered  the  property  of  the 
foreigners  resident  in  St.  Domingo,  that  tliC  plate  and 
money  belonging  to  the  Audubon  family  had  to  be  carried 
away  to  New  Or/eans  by  the  more  faithful  of  their  servants. 
Returning  to  France  with  his  family,  the  elder  Audubon 
again  married,  left  his  young  son,  the  future  naturalist, 
under  charge  of  his  second  wife,  and  returned  to  the 
United  States,  in  the  employment  of  the  French  govern- 
ment, as  an  officer  in  the  Imperial  navy.  While  there  he 
became  attached  to  the  army  under  Lafayette.  Moving 
hither  and  thither  under  various  changes,  he  seldom  or 
never  communicated  with  his  boy  ;  but  meanwhile  the  prop- 
erty which  remained  to  him  in  St.  Domingo  was  greatly 
augmenting  in  value.  During  a  visit  paid  to  Pennsylvania, 
the  restless  Frenchman  purchased  the  farm  of  Millgrove  on 
the  Perkiomen  Creek,  near  the  Schuylkill  Falls.  Finally, 
after  a  life  of  restless  adventure,  he  returned  to  France 
and  filled  a  post  in  the  marine  ;  and  after  spending  some 
portion  of  his  years  at  Rochefort,  retired  to  his  estate  on 
the  Loire.  This  estate  was  left  by  Commodore  Audubon  to 
his  son  John  James,  who  conveyed  it  to  his  sister  without 
even  visiting  the  domain  he  so  generously  willed  away. 


H 


Life  of  Audubon, 


Vi 


m 


m 


The  naturalist  was  born  on  his  father's  plantatioiv 
near  New  Orleans,  Louisiana,  May  4th,  1780,  and 
his  earliest  recollections  are  associated  with  lying 
among  the  flowers  of  that  fertile  land,  sheltered  by  the 
orarge  trees,  and  watching  the  movements  of  the 
mocking-bird,  "  the  king  of  song,"  dear  to  him  in  after 
life  from  many  associations.  He  has  remarked  that  his 
earliest  impressions  of  nature  were  exceedingly  vivid ;  the 
beauties  of  natural  scenery  stirred  "  a  frenzy  "  in  his 
blood,  and  at  the  earliest  age  the  bent  of  his  future  studies 
was  indicated  by  many  characteristic  traits.  He  left 
Louisiana  while  but  a  child,  and  went  to  St.  Domingo, 
where  he  resided  for  a  short  period,  previous  to  his 
departure  for  France,  where  his  education  was  to  be 
commenced. 

His  earliest  recollections  of  his  life  in  France  extend 
to  his  home  in  the  central  district  of  the  city  of  Nantes, 
and  a  fact  he  remembered  well  was  being  attended  by  two 
colored  servants  sent  home  from  India  by  his  father. 
He  speaks  of  his  life  in  Nantes  as  joyous  in  the  extreme. 
His  step-mother,  being  without  any  children  of  her  own, 
humored  the  child  in  every  whim,  and  indulged  him  in 
every  luxury.  The  future  naturalist,  who  in  the  recesses 
of  American  forests  was  to  live  on  roots  and  fruits,  and 
even  scantier  fare,  was  indulged  with  a  "  carte  blanche  " 
on  all  the  confectionery  shops  in  the  village  where  his 
summer  months  were  passed,  and  he  speaks  of  the  kind- 
ness of  his  stepmother  as  overwhelming.  His  father 
had  less  weakness,  and  ordered  the  bo}-  to  attend  to  his 
education.  The  elder  Audubon  had  known  too  many 
changes  of  fortune  to  believe  in  the  fickle  gz)ddess;  and 
notwithstanding  his  wife's  tears  and  entreaties,  determining 
to  educate  his  son  thoroughly,  as  the  safest  inheritance 
he  could  leave  him,  he  sent  the  young  gentleman 
straightway  to  school.     Audubon  laments  that  educatior 


§ 


» 


His  Early  Tears. 


J5 


in  France  was  but  miserably  attended  to  during  the 
years  that  succeeded  the  great  political  convulsions. 
Military  education  had  usurped  all  the  care  of  the  First 
Empire,  and  the  wants  of  the  civil  poi)ulation  were  but 
sparingly  heeded.  His  father,  from  natural  predilections, 
was  desirous  that  the  boy  should  become  a  sailor,  a  cadet 
in  the  French  navy,  or  an  engineer  ;  and  with  these  views 
before  him,  he  decided  on  the  course  of  study  his  son 
should  follow.  Mathematics,  drawing,  geography,  fencing 
and  music  were  among  the  branches  of  education  pre- 
scribed ;  it  being  evident  that  a  complex  course  of 
instruction  was  not  among  the  misapprehensions  the  old 
sailor's  professional  prejudices  had  nurtured.  Audubon 
had,  for  music-master,  an  adept  who  taught  him  to  play 
adroitly  upon  the  violin,  flute,  flageolet,  and  guitar.  For 
drawing-master,  he  had  David,  the  chief  inventor  and 
worshipper  of  the  abominations  which  smothered  the 
aspirations  of  French  artists  during  the  revolutionary 
generation.  Nevertheless  it  was  to  David  that  Audubon 
owed  his  earliest  lessons  in  tracing  objects  of  natural 
history.  Audubon  was,  moreover,  a  proficient  in  dancing, 
— an  accomplishment  which  in  :ifter  years  he  had  more 
opportunities  of  practising  among  bears  than  among  men. 

Influenced  by  the  military  fever  of  his  time,  he 
dreamed  in  his  schooldays  of  being  a  soldier ;  but 
happily  for  natural  science  his  adventurous  spirit  found 
another  outlet.  Fortunately  his  instruction  was  under 
the  practical  guidance  of  his  mother,  and  large  scope  was 
allowed  him  for  indulging  in  nest-hunting  propensities. 
Supplied  with  a  haversack  of  provisions,  he  made 
frequent  excursions  into  the  country,  and  usually  returned 
loaded  with  objects  of  natural  history,  birds'  nests,  birds' 
eggs,  specimens  of  moss,  curious  stones,  and  other  objects 
attractive  to  his  eye. 

When  the  old  sailor  returned    from    sea    he    wa? 


i6 


Life  of  Audubon* 


astonished  at  the  large  collection  his  boy  had  made,  paid 
him  some  complimpnts  on  his  good  taste,  and  asked  what 
progress  he  had  made  in  his  other  studies.  No  satisfac- 
tory reply  being  given,  he  retired  without  reproach,  but, 
evidently  mortified  at  the  idleness  of  the  young  naturalist, 
seemed  to  turn  his  attention  towards  his  daughter,  whose 
musical  attainments  had  been  successfully  cultivated. 
On  the  day  following  the  disclosure  father  and  son 
started  for  Rochefort,  where  the  elder  held  some  appoint- 
ment The  journey  occupied  four  days,  and  the  pair  did 
not  exchange  one  unnecessary  word  during  the  journey. 
Reaching  his  official  residence,  the  father  explained  that 
he  himself  would  superintend  his  son's  education  ;  gave 
the  boy  liberty  for  one  day  to  survey  the  ships  of  war  and 
the  fortifications,  and  warned  him  that  on  the  morrow  a 
severe  course  of  study  should  be  commenced.  And 
commence  it  did  accordingly. 

More  than  a  year  was  spent  in  the  close  study  of 
mathematics  ;  though  whenever  opportunity  occurred  the 
severer  study  was  neglected  for  rambles  after  objects  of 
natural  history,  and  the  collection  of  more  specimens. 
At  Nantes,  Audubon  actually  began  to  draw  sketches  of 
French  birds, — a  work  he  continued  with  such  assiduity 
that  he  completed  two  hundred  specimens. 

His  father  was  desirous  that  he  should  join  the  armies 
of  Napoleon,  and  win  fame  by  following  the  French 
eagles.  Warfare,  however,  had  ceased  to  be  a  passion  of 
the  youth,  and  he  was  sent  out  to  America  to  superintend 
his  father's  property.  He  has  recorded  in  affecting 
language  his  regret  at  leaving  behmd  him  the  country 
where  he  had  spent  his  boyhood,  the  friends  upon  whose 
affections  he  relied,  the  associations  that  had  been 
endeared  to  him.  While  the  breeze  v/afted  along  the 
great  ship,  hours  were  spent  in  deep  sorrow  or  melancholy 
musings. 


His  first  Visit  to  America, 


»7 


'I 


On  landing  at  New  York  he  caught  the  yellow  fever, 
by  walking  to  the  bank  in  Greenwich  Street  to  cash  his 
letters  of  credit.  Captain  John  Smith,  whose  name  is 
gratefully  recorded,  took  compassion  on  the  young 
emigrant,  removed  him  to  Morristown,  and  placed  hiiL 
under  the  care  of  two  Quaker  ladies  at  a  boarding-house, 
a  id  to  the  kindness  of  these  ladies  he  doubtless  owed  his 
.ife.  *  His  father's  agent,  Mr.  Fisher,  of  Philadelphia, 
knowing  his  condition,  went  with  his  carriage  to  his 
lodging,  and  drove  the  invalid  to  his  villa,  situated  at 
some  distance  from  the  city  on  the  road  to  Trenton.  Mr. 
Fisher  was  a  Quaker,  and  a  strict  formalist  in  religious 
matters;  did  not  approve  of  hunting, and  even  objected 
to  music.  To  the  adventurous  and  romantic  youth  this 
home  was  little  livelier  than  a  prison,  and  he  gl?dly 
escaped  from  it.  Mr.  Fisher,  at  his  request^  put  him  in 
possession  of  his  father's  property  of  Mill  Grove,  on  the 
Perkiomen  Creek  ;  and  from  the  rental  paid  by  the  tenant, 
a  Quaker  named  William  Thomas,  the  youth  found  him- 
self supplied  with  all  the  funds  he  needed. 

At  Mill  Grove  young  Audubon  found  "a  blessed 
spot."  In  the  regularity  of  the  fences,  the  straight  and 
military  exactness  of  the  avenues,  Audubon  saw  his  fr  • 
ther's  taste,  nay,  his  very  handiwork.  The  mill  attached 
to  the  property  was  to  him  a  daily  source  of  enjoyment, 
and  he  was  delighted  with  the  repose  of  the  quiet  milldam 
where  the  pewees  were  accustomed  to  build.  "Hunting, 
fishing,  and  drawing  occupied  my  every  moment,"  he 
writes ;  adding,  "  cares  I  knew  not,  and  cared  nothing  for 
them." 

In  simple  and  unaffected  language  he  relates  his 
introduction  to  his  wife,  the  daughter  of  William  Bake- 
well,  an  English  gentleman  who  had  purchased  .he  ad- 
joining property.  Mr.  Bakewell  lived  at  Fatland  Ford, 
within  sight  of  Mill  Grove,  but  Audubon  had  avoided  the 


i8 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


\ 

) 
I 

'i! 

il 

ill 

:  t' 

\x 

-  I' 

.1 1 


family,  as  English,  and  objectionable  to  one  who  had  been 
nurtured  with  a  hatred  towards  **  perfidious  Albion."  The 
very  name  of  Englishman  was  odious  to  him,  he  tells  us; 
and  even  after  his  neighbor  had  called  upon  him,  he  was 
uncivil  enough  to  postpone  his  advances  in  return.  Mn. 
Thomas,  the  tenant's  wife  at  Mill  Grove,  with  a  woman's 
desire  to  see  what  the  issue  might  be,  urged  her  young  mas- 
ter to  visit  the  Bakewell  family ;  but  the  more  he  was 
urged  the  more  hardened  his  heart  appeared  to  be  against 
the  stranger. 

The  winter's  frosts  had  set  in.  Audubon  was  follow- 
ing some  grouse  down  the  creek,  when  suddenly  he  came 
upon  Mr.  Bakewell,  who  at  once  dissipated  the  French- 
man's prejudices  by  the  discovery  of  kindred  tastes. 
Audubon  writes  :  "  I  was  struck  with  the  kind  politeness 
of  his  manners,  and  found  him  a  most  expert  marksman, 
and  entered  into  conversation.  I  admired  the  beauty  of 
his  well-trained  dogs,  and  finally  promised  to  call  upon 
him  and  his  family.  Well  do  I  recollect  the  morning,  and 
may  it  please  God  may  I  never  forget  it,  when,  for  the  first 
time  I  entered  the  Bakewell  household.  It  happened 
that  Mr.  Rikewell  was  from  home.  I  was  shown  into  a 
parlour,  where  only  one  young  lady  was  snugly  seated  at 
work,  with  her  back  turned  towards  the  fire.  She  rose  on 
my  entrance,  offered  me  a  seat,  and  assured  me  of  the 
gratification  her  father  would  feel  on  his  return,  which, 
she  added  with  a  smile,  would  be  in  a  few  minutes,  as  she 
would  send  a  servant  after  him.  Other  ruddy  cheeks 
made  their  appearance,  but  like  spirits  gay,  vanished  from 
my  sight.  Talking  and  working,  the  young  lady  who 
remained  made  the  time  pass  pleasantly  enough,  and  to 
me  especially  so.  It  was  she,  my  dear  Lucy  Bakewell, 
who  afterwards  became  my  wife  and  the  mother  of  my 
children." 

Mr.  Bakewell  speedily  returned,  and  Lucy  attend  ed  to 


^he  Bakewell  Family. 


the  lunch  provided  before  leaving  on  a  shooting  expedi- 
tion. "  Lucy  rose  from  her  seat  a  second  time,  and  her 
form,  to  which  I  had  before  paid  little  .attention,  seemed 
radiant  with  beauty,  and  my  heart  and  eyes  followed  hei 
every  step.  The  repast  being  over,  guns  and  dogs  were 
provided,  and  as  we  left  I  was  pleased  to  believe  that  Lucy 
looked  upon  me  as  a  not  very  strange  animal.  Bowing  to 
ner,  I  felt,  I  knew  not  why,  that  I  was  at  least  not  indif- 
ferent to  her." 

The  acquaintance  so  pleasantly  begim  rapidly  matured. 
Audubon  and  Bakewell  were  often  companions  in  their 
shooting  excursions,  and  finally  the  whole  Bakewell  family 
were  invited  to  Mill  Grove. 

The  Bakewell's  are  descendants  of  the  Peverils,  great 
land  owners  of  the  northern  part  of  Derbyshire,  known  as 
the  Peak  of  Derbyshire,  and  rendered  historical  by  Sir 
Walter  Scott's  novel  of  "  Peveril  of  the  Peak."  Miss 
Peveril  married  one  of  the  retainers  of  the  Court  of 
William  the  Norman,  by  name  Count  Bassquelle,  which 
name  was  corrupted  into  Basskiel,  afterwards  into  Bake- 
well.  From  some  of  the  descendants  of  this  marriage  the 
town  of  Bakewell  was  founded  ;  some  members  removed 
to  Dishley,  Leicestershire,  one  of  whom  was  the  grazier 
and  improver  of  the  breed  of  sheep,  another  was  well 
kiiown  as  a  geologist. 

The  property  of  Audubon  was  separated  from  Bake- 
well's plantation  by  a  road  leading  from  Norristown  to 
Pawling's  Landing,  now  Pawling's  Bridge,  or  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  apart;  and  the  result  of  the  friendly 
relationship  established  between  the  two  households  gave 
rise  to  a  series  of  mutual  signals,  chalked  on  a  board  and 
hung  out  of  the  window.  The  friendship  deepened.  Lucy 
Bakewell  taught  English  to  Audubon,  and  received 
drawing  lessons  in  return.  Of  course  no  one  failed  to 
predict  the  result ;  but  as  a  love  affair  is  chiefly  interest- 


;  1  ( 


ao 


Life  of  Audubon, 


V 


1  s 


ing  to  those  immediately  concerned,  we  pass  on  to  othei 
matters. 

At  Mill  Grove  Audubon  pored  over  his  idea  of  a 
great  work  on  American  Ornithology,  until  the  thought 
took  some  shape  in  his  fervid  mind.  The  work  he  had 
prepared  for  himself  to  do  was  an  *  Ornithological  Biog- 
raphy,' including  an  account  of  the  liabits  and  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  birds  of  America ;  that  work  which  in  its 
completed  form  Cuvier  pronounced  to  be  "The  most 
gigantic  biblical  enterprise  ever  undertaken  by  a  single 
individual."  However,  it  was  only  after  his  drawings  and 
his  descriptions  accumulated  upon  him  that  Audubon  de- 
cided to  give  the  collection  the  form  of  a  scientific  work. 

Audubon  speaks  of  his  life  at  Mill  Grove  as  being  in 
every  way  agreeable.  He  had  ample  means  for  all  hi? 
wants,  was  gay,  extravagant,  and  fond  of  dress.  He  rath 
er  naively  writes  in  his  journal,  "I  had  no  vices;  but  was 
thoughtless,  pensive,  loving,  fond  of  shooting,  fishing,  and 
riding,  and  had  a  passion  for  raising  all  sorts  of  fowls, 
which  sources  of  interest  and  amusement  fiilly  occupied 
my  time.  It  was  one  of  my  fancies  to  be  ridiculously 
fond  of  dress;  to  hunt  in  black  satin  breeches,  wear 
pumps  when  shooting,  and  dress  in  the  finest  ruffled  shirts 
I  could  obtain  from  France."  He  was  also  fond  of  danc- 
ing, and  music,  and  skating,  and  attended  all  the  balls 
and  skating  parties  in  the  neighborhood.  Regarding  his 
mode  of  life,  Audubon  gives  some  hints  useful  to  those 
who  desire  to  strengthen  their  constitution  by  an  abste- 
mious diet.  He  says  : — "  I  ate  no  butcher's  meat,  lived 
chiefly  on  fruits,  vegetables,  and  fish,  and  never  drank  a 
glass  of  spirits  or  wine  until  my  wedding  day.  To  this  I 
attribute  my  continual  good  health,  endurance,  and  an 
iron  constitution.  So  strong  was  the  habit,  that  I  disliked 
going  to  dinner  parties,  where  people  were  expected  to 
indulge  in  eating  and  drinking,  and  where  often  there  was 


The  Bakeweli  Family, 


21 


not  a  single  dish  to  my  taste.  I  cared  nothing  for  sump- 
tuous entertainments.  Pies,  puddings,  eggs,  and  milk  ol 
cream  was  the  food  I  liked  best;  and  many  a  time 
was  the  dairy  of  Mrs.  Thomas,  the  tenant's  wife  of  Mill 
Grove,  robbed  of  the  cream  intended  to  make  butter  for 
the  Philadelphia  market.  All  this  while  I  was  fair  and 
rosy,  strong  as  any  one  of  my  age  and  sex  could  be,  and 
as  active  and  agile  as  a  buck.  And  why,  have  I  often 
thought,  should  I  not  have  kept  to  this  delicious  mode  of 
living?" 

Note  here  a  curious  incident  in  connection  with  his 
love  of  skating  and  his  proficiency  as  a  marksman.  Hav- 
ing been  skating  down  the  Perkiomen  Creek,  he  met  Miss 
Bakewell's  young  brother  William,  and  wagered  that  he 
would  put  a  shot  through  his  cap  when  tossed  into  the  air, 
while  Audubon  was  passing  full  speed.  The  experiment 
was  made,  and  the  cap  riddled.  A  still  more  striking 
incident  is  thus  related.  "  Having  engaged  in  a  duck- 
shooting  expedition  up  the  Perkiomen  Creek  with  young 
Bakeweli  and  some  other  friends,  it  was  found  that  the  ice 
was  full  of  dangerous  air-holes.  On  our  upward  journey 
it  wa««  easy  to  avoid  accident,  but  the  return  trip  was  at- 
tended with  an  event  which  had  nearly  closed  my  career. 
Indeed,  my  escape  was  one  of  the  inconceivable  miracles 
that  occasionally  rescues  a  doomed  man  from  his  fate. 
The  trip  was  extended  too  far,  and  night  and  darkness 
had  set  in  long  before  we  reached  home.  I  led  the  party 
through  the  dusk  with  a  white  handkerchief  made  fast  to 
a  stick,  and  we  proceeded  like  a  flock  of  geese  going  to 
their  feeding  ground.  Watching  for  air-holes,  I  generally 
avoided  them ;  but  increasing  our  speed,  I  suddenly 
plunged  into  one,  was  carried  for  some  distance  by  the 
stream  under  the  ice,  and  stunned  and  choking  I  was 
forced  up  through  another  air-hole  farther  down  the  stream. 
I  clutched  hold  of  the  ice  and  arrested  my  downward 


I' 

I' 


22 


Life  of  Audubon, 


progress,  until  my  companions  arrived  to  help  me.  My 
wet  clothes  had  to  be  changed.  One  lent  me  a  shirt, 
another  a  coat,  and  so  apparelled  I  resumed  my  home 
ward  journey.  Unable  to  reach  Mill  Grove,  I  was  taken 
to  Mr.  Bakewell's  house  chilled  and  h'-uised.  It  was 
three  months  before  I  recovered,  notwithstanding  the 
advice  of  able  physicians  called  in  from  Philadelphia." 

The  quiet  life  young  Audubon  led  at  Mill  Grove  was 
interrupted  by  an  incident  in  his  life  which  might  have 
proved  serious  to  one  owning  less  energy  and  hardihood 
than  he  possessed.  A  "partner,  tutor,  and  monitor," 
one  Da  Costa,  sent  from  France  by  the  elder  Audubon 
to  prosecute  the  lead  mine  enterprise  at  Mill  Grove,  be- 
gan to  assume  an  authority  over  young  Audubon  which 
the  latter  considered  unwarranted.  An  attempt  was  made 
to  limit  his  finances,  and  Da  Costa,  unfortunately  for 
himself,  went  further,  and  objected  to  the  proposed  union 
with  Lucy  Bakewell,  as  being  an  unequal  match.  Audu- 
bon resented  such  interference,  and  demanded  money 
from  Da  Costa  to  carry  him  to  France.  The  French 
adventurer  suggested  a  voyage  to  India,  but  finally  agreed 
to  give  Audubon  a  letter  of  credit  upon  an  agent  named 
Kanman,  in  New  York.  With  characteristic  earnestness 
Audubon  walked  straight  off  to  New  York,  where  he  ar- 
rived in  three  days,  notwithstanding  the  severity  of  a 
midwinter  journey.  The  day  following  his  arrival  he  call- 
ed upon  Mr.  Kanman,  who  frankly  told  him  he  had  no 
money  to  give  him,  and  further  disclosed  Da  Costa's 
treachery  by  hinting  that  Audubon  should  be  seized  and 
shipped  for  China.  Furious  at  his  treatment,  Audubon 
procured  money  from  a  friend,  and  engaged  a  passage  on 
board  the  brig  Hope,  of  New  Bedford,  bound  for  Nantes. 
He  left  New  York,  and  after  considerable  delays,  surpiis 
(d  his  parents  in  their  quiet  country  home 


i 


^3Aio 


CHAPTER    II. 

Remit  of  Audubon's  Voyage  to  France — Rcnrual  of  Bird-huntti^ 
Pursuits — Examination  for  the  French  Marine,  and  Appoint- 
ment to  the  Post  of  Midshipman  —  Return  to  A, 'n erica  —  Cha.iea 
by  a  Privateer —  77ie  Instincts  of  the  Aatura/ist  —  Goes  to  Ne%o 
York  to  acquire  a  Knffivledge  of  Jhisiness —  Portrait  of  Himself 

—  Returns  to  Mill  Grave  —  Marriage  and  fonrncy  to  Louisville 

—  His  Settlement  there  aftd  Pleasant  Life —  Renunal  of  Business 
to  Hendersonville  —  Meeting  with  Alexander  Wilson,  the  Ameri- 
can Ornithologist  and  Paisley  Poet. 

ilXPLAINING  to  his  father  the  scandalous  conduct 
of  Da  Costa,  young  Audubon  prevailed  so  far  that 
the  traitor  was  removed  from  the  position  which 
he  had  been  placed  in  with  such  hasty  confidence.  He 
had  also  to  request  his  father's  approval  of  his  marriage  with 
^  Miss  Lucy  Bakewell,  and  the  father  promised  to  decide  as 
soon  as  he  had  an  answer  to  a  letter  he  had  written  to  Mr. 
Bakewell  in  Pennsylvania.  Settled  in  the  paternal  house 
for  a  year,  the  naturalist  gratified  in  every  fashion  his 
wandering  instincts.  He  roamed  everywhere  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  his  home,  shooting,  fishing,  and  collecting 
specimens  of  natural  history.  He  also  continued  his 
careful  drawings  of  natural  history  specimens,  and  stuffed 
and  prepared  many  birds  and  animals — an  art  which  he 
had  carefully  acquired  in  America.  In  one  year  two 
hundred  drawings  of  European  birds  had  been  completed, 
— a  fact  which  displays  marvellous  industry,  if  it  does  not 
necessarily  imply  a  sound  artistic  representation  of  the 
birds  drawn.  At  this  period  the  tremendous  convulsions 
of  the  French  empire  had  culminated  in  colossal  prepa- 
rations  for   a   conflict   with    Russia.     The   conscription 


H 


Life  of  Audubon, 


threatened  every  man  capable  of  bearing  arms,  and  Aii 
Jubon  appeared  to  believe  that  he  stood  in  some  dangei 
of  being  enrolled  in  the  general  levy.  His  two  brothers 
were  already  serving  in  the  armies  of  Napoleon  as  offi 
cers,  and  it  was  decided  that  their  junior  should  volunta* 
rily  join  the  navy.  After  passing  what  he  called  "a 
sLiiDerficial  examination  "  for  an  appointment  as  midship- 
man, he  was  orde'ed  to  report  at  Rochefort.  Entering 
upon  his  duties  in  the  French  marine,  he  was  destined  to 
make  at  least  one  short  cruise  in  the  service  of  France. 
Before  entering  the  service  he  had  made  the  acquaintance 
of  a  young  man  named  Ferdinand  Rosier,  to  whom  he 
had  made  some  proposal  of  going  to  America.  On  the 
return  of  the  vessel  in  which  he  acted,  it  was  proposed 
that  he  and  Rosier  should  leave  for  America  as  partners, 
under  a  nine  years'  engagement.  The  elder  Audubon 
obtained  leave  of  absence  for  his  son  ;  and  after  pass- 
ports were  provided,  the  two  emigrants  left  France  at  a 
period  when  thousands  would  have  been  glad  of  liberty 
to  follow  their  footsteps. 

About  two  weeks  after  leaving  France,  a  vessel  ga^'e 
chase  to  the  French  vessel,  passed  her  by  to  windward, 
fired  a  shot  across  her  bows,  and  continued  the  chase 
until  the  captain  of  the  outward  bound  was  forced  to  heave 
his  ship  to,  and  submit  to  be  boarded  by  a  boat.  The 
enemy  proved  to  be  the  English  privateer.  Rattlesnake, 
the  captain  of  which  was  sadly  vexed  to  find  that  his  prey 
was  an  American  vessel,  carrymg  proper  papers,  and  fly- 
ing the  stars  and  stripes.  Unable  to  detain  the  vessel, 
the  privateer's  crew  determined  at  least  to  rob  the  pas- 
sengers. "  They  took  pigs  and  sheep,"  writes  Audubon, 
"  and  carried  away  two  of  our  best  sailors,  in  spite  of  the 
remonstrances  of  the  captain,  and  of  a  member  of  the 
United  States  Congress,  who  was  a  passenger  on  board, 
and  was  accompanied  by  an  amiable  daughter.    Thf 


Adventure  with  a  Privateer. 


as 


and  An 
!   dangei 
brothers 
I  as  offi 
volunta* 
lalled  "a 
midship- 
Entering 
istined  to 
f  France, 
naintance 
whom  he 
On  the 
proposed 
partners, 
Audubon 
fter  pass- 
.nce  at  a 
of  liberty 

ssel  g2Lve 
vindward, 
:he  chase 

to  heave 
lat.  The 
;tlesnake, 
.t  his  prey 
,,  and  fly- 
le  vessel, 

the  pas- 

.udubon, 
lite  of  the 

;r  of  the 
|n  board, 

ir.    Th# 


Rattlesnake  kept  us  under  her  lee,  and  almost  within 
pistol-shot  for  a  day  and  a  night,  ransacking  the  ship  for 
money,  of  which  we  had  a  great  deal  in  the  run  under  the 
ballast,  which  tlxey  partially  removed,  but  did  not  go  deep 
enough  to  reach  the  treasure.  The  gold  belonging  to 
Rosier  and  myself  I  put  away  in  a  woolen  stocking  under 
the  ship's  cable  in  the  bows  of  the  ship,  where  it  remain- 
ed safe  until  the  privateers  had  departed.  Arriving 
within  thirty  miles  of  Sandy  Hook,  a  fishing-smack  was 
spoken,  which  reported  that  two  British  frigates  lay  off  the 
entrance,  and  had  fired  on  an  American  ship  ;  that  they 
were  impressing  American  seamen,  and  that,  in  fact,  they 
were  even  more  dangerous  to  meet  than  the  pirates  who 
sailed  under  "  a  letter  of  marque."  The  captain,  warned 
of  one  danger,  ran  into  another.  He  took  his  vessel 
through  Long  Island  Sound,  and  ran  it  upon  a  spit  in  a 
gale.  But  finally  floated  it  off,  and  reached  New  York 
in  safety. 

From  the  introductory  address  in  the  first  volume  of 
Audubon's  'Ornithological  Biography,'  published  at  Ed- 
inburgh, in  1834,  many  passages  may  be  cited  as  an 
exposition  of  the  high  aspirations  which  stimulated  the 
young  naturalist  to  his  task.  These  passages  may  be  di- 
nded  into  scientific  and  artistic.  Belonging  to  the  first 
category  are  constant  references  to  that  thirst  for  accu- 
rate and  complete  knowledge  regarding  wild  animals,  and 
especially  birds,  their  habits,  forms,  nests,  eggs,  progeny, 
places  of  breeding,  and  all  that  concerned  them.  But, 
after  all,  Audubon  was  not  at  heart  a  man  of  science. 
He  gathered  much,  and  speculated  little,  and  was  more  a 
backwoodsman  than  a  philosopher.  In  his  rough  great 
way  he  did  good  service,  but  his  great  physical  energy, 
not  his  mental  resources,  was  the  secret  of  his  success. 

His  crude  artistic  instincts  insf  iredhim  with  the  desire 
to  represent,  by  the  aid  of  pencil,  crayon,  or  paint,  the 


1} 


26 


Life  jf  Auduhon» 


form,  plumage,  attitude,  and  characteristic  marks  of  his 
feathered  favourites.  In  working  towards  this  end,  he 
labored  to  produce  life-like  pictures,  and  frequently  with 
wonderful  success.  Strongly  impressed  with  the  difficul- 
ties of  representing  in  any  perfect  degree  the  living  image 
of  the  birds  he  drew,  he  labored  arduously  at  what  we 
may  call  forcible  photographs  in  colours,  his  first  aim 
being  fidelity,  and  his  next,  artistic  beauty.  How  much 
chagrin  his  failures  cost  him  may  be  gleaned  from  the 
lamentations  he  makes  over  his  unsuccessful  efforts  in  the 
introductory  address  refeired  to  above.  Regarding  the 
means  he  adopted  to  secure  a  faultless  representation  of 
the  animals  he  desired  to  transcribe,  he  writes  : — "  Pa- 
tiently and  with  industry  did  I  apply  myself  to  study,  foi 
although  I  felt  the  impossibility  of  giving  life  to  my  pro- 
ductions, I  did  not  abandon  the  idea  of  representing 
nature.  Many  plans  were  successively  adopted,  many 
masters  guided  my  hand.  At  the  age  of  seventeen,  when 
I  returned  from  France,  whither  I  had  gone  to  receive  the 
rudiments  of  my  education,  my  drawings  had  assumed  a 
form.  David  had  guided  my  hand  in  tracing  objects  of 
large  size  :  eyes  and  noses  belonging  to  giants  and  heads 
of  horses,  represented  in  ancient  sculpture,  were  my  mod- 
els. These,  although  fit  subjects  for  men  intent  on  pur- 
suing the  higher  branches  c  ^rt,  were  immediately  laid 
aside  by  me.  I  returned  to  the  woods  of  the  n  w  world 
with  fresh  ardour,  and  commenced  a  collection  of  draw- 
ings, which  I  henceforth  continued,  and  which  is  now 
publishing  under  the  title  of  '  The  Birds  of  America.'  " 
To  resume  the  narrative  of  Audubon's  journey  back 
to  Mill  Grove.  Da  Costa  was  dismissed  from  his  situa- 
tion, and  Audubon  remained  his  own  master.  Mr. 
William  Bakewell,  the  brother  of  Lucy,  has  recorded  some 
interesting  particulars  of  a  visit  to  Mill  Grove  at  this 
period.     He  says  : — "  Audubon  took  me  to  his  house 


His  Accomplishments. 


1': 


ks  of  his 
end,  he 
ntly  with 
e  difficul- 
ing  image 
what  we 
first  aim 
ov^  much 
from  the 
orts  in  the 
rding  the 
ntation  of 
iS  :— "  Pa- 
study,  foi 
)  my  pro- 
Dresenting 
ted,  many 
teen,  when 
eceive  the 
assumed  a 
objects  of 
and  heads 
e  my  mod- 
it  on  pur- 
ately  laid 
\v  world 
of  draw- 
:h  is  now 
merica.' " 
ney  back 
his  situa- 
ter.     Mr. 
rded  some 
e  at  this 
lis  house 


jvhere  he  and  his  companion  Rosier  resided,  with  Mrs. 
Thomas  for  an  attendant.  On  entering  his  room,  I  was 
astonished  and  delighted  to  find  that  it  was  turned  into  a 
museum.  The  walls  were  festooned  with  all  sorts  of 
birds'  eggs,  carefully  blown  out  and  strung  on  a  thread. 
The  chimney-piece  was  covered  with  stuffed  squirrels, 
racoons,  and  opossums ;  and  the  shelves  around  were 
likewise  crowded  with  specimci.s,  among  which  were 
fishes,  frogs,  snakes,  lizards,  and  other  reptiles.  Besides 
these  stuffed  varieties,  many  paintings  were  arrayed  upon 
the  walls,  chiefly  of  birds.  He  had  great  skill  in  stuffing 
and  preserving  animals  of  all  sorts.  He  had  also  a  trick 
of  training  dogs  with  great  perfection,  of  which  art  his 
famous  dog  Zephyr  was  a  wonderful  example.  He  was 
an  admirable  marksman,  an  expert  swimmer,  a  clever 
rider,  possessed  great  activity,  prodigious  strength,  and 
was  notable  for  the  elegance  of  his  figure  and  the  beauty 
of  his  features,  and  he  aided  nature  by  a  careful  attend- 
ance to  his  dress.  Besides  other  accomplishments,  he 
was  musical,  a  good  fencer,  danced  well,  had  some  ac- 
quaintance with  legerdemain  tricks,  worked  in  hair,  and 
could  plait  willow-baskets."  He  adds  further,  that 
Audubon  once  swam  across  the  Schuylkill  river  witi 
him  on  his  back, — no  contemptible  feat  for  a  young  ath- 
I'ite. 

The  naturalist  was  evidently  a  nonpareil  in  the  eyes 
of  his  neighbors,  and  of  those  who  were  intimate  enough 
to  know  his  manifold  tastes.  But  love  began  to  interfere 
a  little  with  the  gratification  of  these  Bohemian  instincts. 
On  expressing  his  desire  of  uniting  himself  to  Miss 
Bakewell,  Audubon  was  advised  by  Mr.  Bake  well  to  ob- 
tain some  knowledge  of  commercial  pursuits  before  get- 
ting married.  With  this  intention,  Audubon  started  for 
New  York,  entered  the  counting-house  of  Mr.  Benjamin 
Bakewell,  and  made  rapid  progress  in  his  education  b} 


m 


(II 


i       I 


i 


28 


Life  of  Audubon, 


losing  some  hundreds  of  pounds  by  a  bad  speculatior  ir 
indigo. 

The  leading  work  done  by  the  imprisoned  naturalist 
was,  as  usual,  wandering  in  search  of  birds  and  natural 
curiosities.  While  so  engaged  he  made  the  acquaintance 
of  Dr.  Samuel  Mitchel,  one  of  the  leading  medical  men 
in  New  York  city,  and  distinguished  as  an  ethnologist. 
Dr.  Mitchel  was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Lyceum  oi 
Natural  History,  and  of  the  *  Medical  Repository,'  which 
was  the  first  scientific  journal  started  in  the  United  States. 
Audubon  prepared  many  specimens  for  this  gentleman, 
which  he  believed  ■\vere  finally  deposited  in  the  New  York 
Museum.  After  a  season  of  probation,  during  which  Mr. 
Bakewell  became  convinced  of  the  impossibility  of  tutor- 
ing Audubon  into  mercantile  habits,  the  naturalist  gladly 
returned  to  Mill  Grove.  Rosier,  who  had  likewise  been 
recommended  to  attempt  commerce,  lost  a  considerable 
sum  in  an  unfortunate  speculation,  and  eventually  return- 
ed to  Mill  Grove  with  his  friend. 

Audubon  remarks  that  at  this  period  it  took  him  but 
a  few  minutes,  walking  smartly,  to  pass  from  one  end  of 
New  York  to  another,  so  sparse  was  the  population  at 
the  date  of  his  residence.  He  adds,  in  reference  to  his 
absent  habits  and  unsuitability  for  business,  that  he  at 
one  time  posted  without  sealing  it  a  letter  containing 
8000  dollars.  His  natural  history  pursuits  in  New  York 
occasioned  a  disagreeable  flavor  from  his  room.s,  occa- 
sioned by  drying  birds'  skins  ;  and  was  productive  of  so 
much  annoyance  to  his  neighbours,  that  they  forwarded  a 
message  to  him  through  a  constable,  insisting  on  his  abat- 
ing the  nuisance.  An  excellent  pen  and  ink  sketch  of 
his  own  appearance  at  this  time  has  been  left  by  Audu- 
bon. He  says  :  "  I  measured  five  feet  ten  and  a  half 
inches,  was  of  a  fair  mien,  and  quite  a  handsome  figure  ; 
large,  dark,  and  rather  sunken  eyes,  light-coloured  eye 


Portrait  of  Himself. 


^ 


brows,  aquiline  nose,  and  a  fine  set  of  teeth ;  hair,  fine 
texture  and  luxuriant,  divided  and  passing  down  behind 
each  ear  in  luxuriant  ringlets  as  far  as  the  shoulders." 
There  appears  excellent  reason  to  believe  that  Audubon 
quite  appreciated  his  youthful  graces,  and,  with  the  ndi- 
veti  of  a  simple  nature,  was  not  ashamed  to  record  them. 

After  returning  to  Mill  Grove,  Audubon  and  his  friend 
Rosier  planned  an  expedition  towards  the  west,  at  that 
time  a  wild  region  thinly  populated  by  a  ver}-  strange 
people. 

The  journey  of  Audubon  ana  Rosier  to  Kentucky  had 
for  its  purpose  the  discovery  of  some  outlet  for  the 
naturalist's  energies,  in  the  shape  of  a  settled  investment, 
which  would  permit  of  his  marriage  to  Miss  Bakewell. 
In  Louisville  Audubon  determined  to  remain,  and  with 
this  purpose  in  view  he  sold  his  plantation  of  Mill  Grove, 
invested  his  capital  in  goods,  and  prepared  to  start  for 
the  west.  His  arrangements  being  complete,  he  was 
married  to  Miss  Bakewell  on  the  8th  of  April,  1808,  in 
her  father's  residence  at  Fatland  Ford.  Journeying  by 
Pittsburg  the  wedded  pair  reached  Louisville  with  their 
goods  in  safety.  From  Piitsburg  they  sailed  down  the 
Ohio  in  a  flat-bottomed  float  called  an  ark,  and  which 
proved  to  be  an  exceedingly  tedious  and  primitive  mode 
of  travelling.  This  river  voyage  occupied  twelve  days, 
and  must  have  given  the  naturalist  wonderful  opportuni- 
ties of  making  observations.  At  Louisville  he  com- 
menced trade  under  favorable  auspices,  but  the  hunting 
of  birds  continued  to  be  the  ruling  passion.  His  life  at 
this  period,  in  the  company  of  his  young  wife,  appears  to 
have  been  extremely  happy,  and  he  writes  that  he  had 
really  reason  "  to  care  for  nothing."  The  country  around 
Louisville  was  settled  by  planters  who  were  fond  of  hunt- 
ing, and  among  whom  he  found  a  ready  welcome.  The 
shooting   and  drawing  of  birds   was   continued.      His 


30 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


1 


i 


friend  Rosier,  less  fond  of  rural  sports,  stuck  to  tfie 
counter,  and,  as  Audubon  phrases  it,  "  grew  rich,  and  that 
was  all  he  cared  for."  Audubon's  pursuits  appear  to  have 
severed  him  from  the  business,  which  was  left  to  Rosier's 
management.  Finally  the  war  of  1812  imperilled  the 
prosperity  of  the  partners,  and  what  goods  remained  on 
hand  were  shipped  to  Hendersonville,  Kentucky,  where 
Rosier  remained  for  some  years  longer,  before  going 
further  westward  in  search  of  the  fortune  he  coveted. 
Writing  of  the  kindness  shown  him  by  his  friends  at 
Louisville,  Audubon  relates  that  when  he  was  absent  on 
busiiiess,  or  "  away  on  expeditions,"  his  wife  was  invited 
to  stay  at  General  Clark's,  and  was  taken  care  of  till  he 
returned. 

It  was  at  Louisville  that  Audubon  made  the  acquain- 
tance of  Wilson,  the  American  ornithologist.  Wilson,  a 
Scottish  weaver,  had  been  driven  from  Paisley  through 
his  sympathies  with  the  political  agitators  of  that  notable 
Scottish  town ;  and  finding  a  refuge  in  the  United  States, 
had  turned  his  attention  to  ornithology.  From  the  pages 
of  Audubon's  *  Ornithological  Biography'  it  may  be  inter- 
esting to  reproduce  an  account  of  the  meeting  between 
the  two  naturalists.  "  One  fair  morning,''  writes  Audu- 
bon, "  I  was  surprised  by  the  sudden  entrance  into  our 
counting-room  at  Louisville  of  Mr.  Alexander  Wilson,  the 
celebrated  author  of  the  '  American  Ornithology,'  of  whose 
existence  I  had  never  until  that  moment  been  apprised. 
This  happened  in  March,  18 10.  How  well  do  I 
remember  him,  as  he  then  walked  up  to  me  !  His  long, 
rather  hooked  nose,  the  keenness  of  his  eyes,  and  his 
prominent  cheekbones,  stamped  his  countenance  with  a 
peculiar  character.  His  dress,  too,  was  of  a  kind  not 
usually  seen  in  that  part  of  the  country ;  a  short  coat 
trousers,  and  a  waistcoat  of  gray  cloth.  His  stature  was 
not  above  the  middle  size.     He  had  two  volumes  undei 


Wilsofty  the  Ornithologist, 


3« 


his  arm,  and  as  he  approached  the  table  at  which  I  was 
working,  I  thought  I  discovered  something  like  astonish 
ment  in  his  countenance.  He,  however,  immediately 
proceeded  to  disclose  the  object  of  his  visit,  which  was  to 
procure  subscriptions  for  his  work.  He  opened  his  books, 
explained  the  nature  of  his  occupations,  and  requested 
my  patronage.  I  felt  surprised  and  gratified  at  the  sight 
of  his  volumes,  turned  over  a  few  of  the  plates,  and  had 
already  taken  a  pen  to  write  my  name  in  his  favor,  when 
my  partner  rather  abruptly  said  to  me,  in  French,  '  My 
dear  Audubon,  what  induces  you  to  subscribe  to  this 
work  1  Your  drawings  are  certainly  far  better ;  and 
again,  you  must  know  as  much  of  the  habits  of  American 
birds  as  this  gentleman.'  Whether  Mr.  Wilson  under- 
stood French  or  not,  or  if  the  suddenness  with  which  I 
paused,  disappointed  him,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  I  clearly 
perceived  that  he  was  not  pleased.  Vanity  and  the 
encomiums  of  my  friend  prevented  me  from  subscribing. 
Mr.  Wilson  asked  me  if  I  had  many  drawings  of  birds. 
I  rose,  took  down  a  large  portfolio,  laid  it  on  the  table, 
and  showed  him, — as  I  v/ould  show  you,  kind  reader,  or 
any  other  person  fond  of  such  subjects, — the  whole  of  the 
contents,  with  the  same  patience  with  which  he  had 
shown  me  his  own  engravings.  His  surprise  appeared 
great,  as  he  told  me  he  never  had  the  most  distant  idea 
that  any  other  individual  than  himself  had  been  engaged 
in  forming  such  a  collection.  He  asked  me  if  it  was  my 
intention  to  publish,  and  when  I  answered  in  the 
negative,  his  surprise  seemed  to  increase.  And,  truly, 
such  was  not  my  intention  ;  for,  until  long  after,  when  I 
met  the  Prince  of  Musignano  in  Philadelphia,  I  had  not 
the  least  idea  of  presenting  the  fruits  of  my  labors  to  the 
world.  Mr.  Wilson  now  examii;ed  my  drawings  with 
care,  asked  if  I  should  have  any  objectionh:  to  lending 
him  a  few  during  his  stay,  to  which  1  replied  that  I  had 


I!i 


( 


i| 


3a 


Life  of  Audubon, 


none.  He  then  bade  me  good-morning,  not,  however, 
until  I  had  made  an  arrangement  to  explore  the  woods 
in  the  vicinity  along  with  him,  and  had  promised  to 
procure  for  him  some  birds,  of  which  I  had  drawings  in 
my  collection,  but  which  he  had  never  seen.  It  happened 
that  he  lodged  in  the  same  house  with  us,  but  his  retired 
habits,  I  thought,  exhibited  either  a  strong  feeling  of 
discontent  or  a  decided  melancholy.  The  Scotch  airs 
which  he  played  sweetly  on  his  flute  made  me  melancholy 
.00,  and  I  felt  for  him.  I  presented  him  to  my  wife  and 
friends,  and  seeing  that  he  was  all  enthusiasm,  exerted 
myself  as  much  as  was  in  my  power  to  procure  for  him 
the  specimens  which  he  wanted.  We  hunted  together, 
and  obtained  birds  which  he  had  never  before  seen  ;  but, 
reader,  I  did  not  subscribe  to  his  work,  for,  even  at  that 
time,  my  collection  was  greater  than  his.  Thinking  that 
perhaps  he  might  be  pleased  to  publish  the  results  of  my 
researches,  I  offered  them  to  him,  merely  on  condition 
that  what  I  had  drawn,  or  might  afterwards  draw  and  send 
to  him,  should  be  mentioned  in  his  work  as  coming  from 
my  pencil.  I  at  the  same  time  offered  to  open  a  corres- 
pondence with  him,  which  I  thought  might  prove  beneficial 
to  us  both.  He  made  no  reply  to  either  proposal,  and 
before  many  days  had  elapsed,  left  Louisville,  on  his  way 
to  New  Orleans;  little  knowing  how  much  his  talents  were 
appreciated  in  J'ur  little  town,  at  least  by  myself  and  ray 
friends. 

"  Some  time  elapsed,  during  which  I  never  heard  of 
him,  or  his  work.  At  length,  having  occasion  to  go  to 
Philadelphia,  I,  immediately  after  my  arrival  there, 
inquired  for  him,  and  paid  him  a  visit.  He  was  then 
drawing  a  white-headed  eagle.  He  received  me  with 
civility,  and  took  me  to  the  exhibition  rooms  of  Rem- 
brandt Peale,  the  artist,  who  had  then  portrayed  Napoleon 
crossing  the  Alps.     Mr.  Wilson  spoke  not  of  birds  oi 


Wilson^  the  Ornithologist, 


33 


drawings.  Feeling,  as  I  was  forced  to  do,  that  my  com- 
pany was  not  agreeable,  I  parted  from  him  ;  and  after 
that  I  never  saw  him  again.  But  judge  of  my  astonish- 
ment some  time  after,  when  on  reading  the  thirty-ninth 
page  of  the '  ninth  volume  of  '  American  (Ornithology,'  I 
found  in  it  the  following  paragraph : — 

^^*  March  23,  18 10. — I  bade  adieu  to  Louisville,  to 
which  place  I  had  four  letters  of  recommendation,  and 
was  taught  to  expect  much  of  everything  there ;  but 
neither  received  one  act  of  civility  from  those  to  whom  I 
was  recommended,  one  subscriber,  nor  one  new  bird  ; 
though  I  delivered  my  letters,  ransacked  the  woods 
repeatedly,  and  visited  all  the  characters  likely  to 
subscribe.  Science  or  literature  has  not  one  friend  in  this 
place.' " 


' 


I 


i! 


iiii! 


CHAPTER  III. 

Return  of  Mrs.  Audubon  to  her  Father^s  House —  Audubon  and  Rosiet 
move  to  Ilendei'sonviUe  —  Business  Unremunerative  —  Detertnitu 
to  try  St,  Genevieve  on  the  Mississippi — Wild  Swan  shooting  with 
Indians  —  A  Bear  Hunt,  and  Valiant  Indian  —  Arrival  at  St 
Genevieve. 


jJCVlT  Louisville  it  was  discovered  that  business  was 
ujw^mI  suffering  from  over-competition,  and  no  further 
w^.iMl  time  was  to  be  lost  in  transferring  the  stock  to 
Hendersonville.  Before  leaving  Louisville  to  take  up 
his  residence  at  Hendersonville,  farther  down  the  Ohio 
river,  Audubon  took  his  wife  and  young  son  back  to  her 
father's  house  at  Fatland  Ford,  where  they  resided  for  a 
year. 

Audubon  and  his  partner  Rosier  arranged  their 
migration  with  the  remaining  stock,  and  entered  upon 
their  voyage  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  down  the 
Ohio  to  Hendersonville.  Arriving  at  this  place,  they 
found  the  neighborhood  thinly  inhabited,  and  the  demand 
for  goods  almost  limited  to  the  coarsest  materials.  The 
merchants  were  driven  to  liye  upon  the  produce  of  their 
guns  and  fishing-rods. 

The  clerk  employed  for  the  firm  had  even  to  assist 
in  supplying  the  table,  and  while  he  did  so  Rosier  attended 
to  the  business.  The  profits  on  any  business  done  was 
enormous,  but  the  sales  were  so  trifling  that  another 
change  was  determined  on.  It  was  proposed  that  the 
stock  in  hand  should  be  removed  to  St.  Genevibve,  a 
settlement  on  the  Mississippi  river,  and  until  it  was 
ascertained    how  the  enterprise  would    prosper,    Mrs. 


Adventurous  'Travel, 


35 


Audubon  should  be  left  at  Hendersonville,  with  the 
family  of  Dr.  Rankin,  who  resided  in  the  immediate 
neighboi  hood.  Of  the  adventurous  voyage  to  St.  Gene- 
vieve, Audubon  gives  this  graphic  account : — 

"  Putting  our  goods,  which  consisted  of  three  hundred 
barrels  of  whiskey,  sundry  drygoods,  and  powder,  on  board 
a  keel-boat,  my  partner,  my  clerk,  and  self  departed  in  a 
severe  snow-storm.  The  boat  was  new,  staunch,  and 
well  trimmed,  and  had  a  cabin  in  her  bow.  A  long  steer- 
ing oar,  made  of  the  trunk  of  a  slender  tiee,  about  sixty 
feet  in  length,  and  shaped  at  its  outer  extremity  like  the 
fin  of  a  dolphin,  helped  to  steer  the  boat,  while  the  four 
oars  from  the  bow  impelled  her  along,  when  going  with 
the  current,  about  five  miles  an  hour. 

"  The  3torm  we  set  out  in  continued,  a^d  soon  cov- 
ered the  ground  with  a  wintry  sheet.  Our  first  night  on 
board  was  dismal  indeed,  but  the  dawn  brought  us  oppo- 
site the  mouth  of  the  Cumberland  River.  It  was  evident 
that  the  severe  cold  had  frozen  all  the  neighboring  lakes 
and  lagoons,  because  thousands  of  wild  water-fowl  were 
flying  to  the  river,  and  settling  themselves  on  its  borders. 
We  permitted  our  boat  to  drift  past,  and  amused  our- 
selves by  firing  into  flocks  of  birds. 

"  The  third  day  we  entered  Cash  Creek,  a  very  small 
stream,  but  having  deep  water  and  a  good  harbour.  Here 
I  met  Count  De  Munn,  who  was  also  in  a  boat  like  ours, 
and  bound  also  for  St.  Genevibve.  Here  we  learned 
that  the  Mississippi  was  covered  with  floating  ice  of  a 
thickness  dangerous  to  the  safety  of  our  craft,  and  indeed 
that  it  was  impossible  to  ascend  the  river  against  it. 

"  The  creek  was  full  of  water,  was  crowded  with  wild 
birds,  and  was  plentifully  supplied  with  fish.  The  large 
sycamores,  and  the  bare  branches  of  the  trees  that 
fringed  the  creek,  were  favorite  res<;rts  of  paroquets, 
which  came  at  night  to  roost  in  their  hollow  tnmks.    An 


1 


i 


I 


111 


i 


36 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


agreeable  circumstance  was  an  encampment  of  about  fiftj 
families  of  Shawnee  Indians,  attracted  to  the  spot  by  the 
mast  of  the  forest,  which  brought  together  herds  of  deer, 
and  many  bears  and  racoons. 

"  Mr.  Rosier,  whose  only  desire  was  to  reach  the  des- 
tination and  resume  trade,  was  seized  with  melancholy  at 
the  prospect  occasioned  by  the  delay.  He  brooded  in 
silence  over  a  mishap  which  had  given  me  great  occasion 
for  rejoicing." 

A  narrative  of  Audubon's  stay  at  Cash  Creek,  and 
perilous  journey  up  the  Mississippi,  is  picturesquely 
given  in  his  journal,  and  from  which  the  following  is 
extracted  : — 

"  The  second  morning  after  our  arrival  at  Cash  Creek, 
while  I  was  straining  my  eyes  to  discover  whether  it  was 
fairly  day  dawn  or  no,  I  heard  a  movement  in  the  Indian 
camp,  and  discovered  that  a  canoe,  with  half  a  dozen 
squaws  and  as  many  hunters,  was  about  leaving  for  Ten- 
nessee. I  had  heard  that  there  was  a  large  lake  oppo- 
site to  us,  where  immense  flocks  of  swans  resorted  every 
morning,  and  asking  permission  to  join  them,  I  seated 
myself  on  my  haunches  in  the  canoe,  well  provided  with 
ammunition  and  a  bottle  of  whiskey,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
the  paddles  were  at  work,  swiftly  propelling  us  to  :hfc 
opposite  shore.  I  was  not  much  surprised  to  see  Mi^ 
boat  paddled  by  the  squaws,  but  I  was  quite  so  to  see 
the  hunters  stretch  themselves  out  and  go  to  sleep.  On 
landing,  the  squaws  took  charge  of  the  canoe,  secured  it, 
and  went  in  search  of  nuts,  while  we  gentlemen  hunters 
made  the  best  of  our  way  through  thick  and  thin  to  the  lake. 
Its  muddy  shores  were  overgrown  with  a  close  growth  of 
cotton  trees,  too  large  to  be  pushed  aside,  and  too  thick 
to  pass  through  except  by  squeezing  yourself  at  every 
few  steps;  and  to  add  to  the  difficulty,  every  few  rods  we 
came  to  small  nasty  lagoons,  which  one  must  jump,  leap, 


Wild  Swan  Shooting, 


or  swim,  and  this  not  without  peril  of  broken  limbs  o 
drowning. 

"  But  when  the  lake  burst  on  our  view  there  were  tht 
swans  by  hundreds,  and  white  as  rich  cream,  either  dip- 
ping their  black  bills  in  the  water,  or  stretching  out  one 
leg  on  its  surface,  or  gently  floating  along.  According 
to  the  Indian  mode  of  hunting,  we  had  divided,  and 
approached  the  lagoon  from  differont  sides.  The  mo- 
ment our  vedette  was  seen,  it  seemed  as  if  thousands  of 
large,  fat,  and  heavy  swans  were  startled,  and  as  they 
made  away  from  him  they  drew  towards  the  ambush  of 
death ;  for  the  trees  had  hunters  behind  them,  whose 
touch  of  the  trigger  would  carry  destruction  among 
them.  As  the  first  party  fired,  the  game  rose  and  flew 
within  easy  distance  of  the  party  on  the  opposite  side, 
when  they  again  fi^ed,  and  I  saw  the  water  covered  with 
birds  floating  with  their  backs  downwards,  and  their 
heads  sunk  in  the  water,  and  their  legs  kicking  in  the 
air.  When  the  sport  was  over  we  counted  more  than 
fifty  of  these  beautiful  birds,  whose  skins  were  intended 
for  the  ladies  in  Europe.  There  were  plenty  of  geese 
and  ducks,  but  no  one  condescended  to  give  them  a  shot. 
A  conch  was  sounded,  and  after  a  while  the  squaws  came 
dragging  the  canoe,  and  collecting  the  dead  game,  which 
was  taken  to  the  river's  edge,  fastened  to  the  canoe,  and 
before  dusk  we  were  again  landed  at  our  camping  ground. 
I  had  heard  of  sportsmen  in  England  who  walked  a  whole 
day,  and  after  firing  a  pound  of  powder  returned  in  great 
glee,  bringing  one  partridge ;  and  I  could  not  help  won- 
dering what  they  would  think  of  the  spoil  we  were  bear- 
ing from  Swan  Lake. 

"  The  fires  were  soon  lighted,  and  a  soup  of  pecan 
nuts  and  bear  fat  made  and  eaten.  The  hunters  stretched 
themselves  with  their  feet  close  to  the  camp-fires,  intended 
to  bum  all  night.     The  squaws  then  began  to  skin  the 


1)  1 

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J8 


Life  of  /,  ^uduhon. 


birds,  and  I  retired,  very  well  satisfied  with  my  Chrislma? 
sport. 

"  When  I  awoke  in  the  morning  and  made  my  rounds 
through  the  camp,  I  found  a  squaw  had  been  delivered 
of  beautiful  twins  during  the  night,  and  I  saw  the  same 
squaw  at  work  tanning  deer-skins.  She  had  cut  two  vines 
at  the  roots  of  opposite  ti  ees,  and  made  a  cradle  of  bark, 
in  which  the  new-born  ones  were  wafted  to  and  fro  with 
a  push  of  her  hand,  while  from  time  to  time  she  gave 
them  the  breast,  and  was  apparently  as  unconcerned  as 
if  the  event  had  not  taken  place. 

"  An  Indian  camp  on  a  hunting  expedition  is  by  no 
means  a  place  of  idleness,  and  although  the  men  do  little 
more  than  hunt,  they  perform  their  task  with  an  industry 
which  borders  on  enthusiasm.  I  was  invited  by  three 
hunters  to  a  bear  hunt.  A  tall,  robust,  well  shaped  fel- 
low assured  me  that  we  should  have  some  sport  that 
day,  for  he  had  discovered  the  haunt  of  one  of  large 
size,  and  he  wanted  to  meet  him  face  to  face ;  and  we 
four  started  to  see  how  he  would  fulfill  his  boast.  About 
half  a  mile  from  the  camp  he  said  he  perceived  his  tracks, 
though  I  could  see  nothing ;  and  we  rambled  on  through 
the  cane  brake  until  we  came  to  an  immense  decayed 
log,  in  which  he  swore  the  bear  was.  I  saw  his  eye 
sparkle  with  joy,  his  rusty  blanket  was  thrown  off  his 
shoulders,  his  brawny  arms  swelled  with  blood,  as  he 
drew  his  scalping-knife  from  his  belt  with  a  flourish 
which  showed  that  fighting  was  his  delight.  He  told  me 
to  mount  a  small  sapling,  because  a  bear  cannot  climl: 
one,  while  it  can  go  up  a  large  tree  with  the  nimbleness 
of  a  squirrel.  The  two  other  Indians  seated  themselves 
at  the  entrance,  and  the  hero  went  in  boldly.  All  was 
silent  for  a  few  moments,  when  he  came  out  and  said  the 
bear  was  dead,  and  1  might  come  down.  The  Indians 
cut  a  long  vine,  went  into  the  hollow  tree,  fastened  it  tc 


A  Bear-Hunt, 


39 


the  animal,  and  with  their  united  force  dragged  it  out 
I  really  thought  that  this  was  an  exploit.  Since  then  I 
have  seen  many  Indian  exploits,  which  proved  to  me 
their  heroism. 

"  In  Europe  or  America  the  white  hunter  would  have 
taken  his  game  home  and  talked  about  it  for  weeks,  but 
these  simple  people  only  took  off  the  animal's  skin,  hung 
the  riesh  in  quarters  on  the  trees,  and  continued  their 
hunt.  Unable  to  follow  them,  I  returned  to  the  camp, 
accompanied  by  one  Indian,  who  broke  the  twigs  of  the 
bushes  we  passed,  and  sent  back  two  squaws  on  the 
track,  who  brought  the  flesh  and  skin  of  the  bear  to  the 
camp. 

"At  length  the  nuts  were  nearly  all  gathered,  and 
the  game  grew  scarce,  and  the  hunters  remained  most 
of  the  day  in  camp ;  and  they  soon  made  up  their  packs, 
broke  up  their  abodes,  put  all  on  board  their  canoes,  and 
paddled  off  down  the  Mississippi  for  the  little  prairie  on 
the  Arkansas. 

"  Their  example  made  a  stir  among  the  whites,  and 
my  impatient  partner  begged  me  to  cross  the  bend  and 
see  if  the  ice  was  yet  too  solid  for  us  to  ascend  the  river. 
Accordingly,  accompanied  by  two  of  the  crew,  I  made 
my  way  to  the  Mississippi.  The  weather  was  milder, 
and  the  ice  so  sunk  as  to  be  scarcely  perceptible,  and  I 
pushed  up  the  shore  to  a  point  opposite  Cape  Girardeau. 
We  hailed  the  people  on  the  opposite  bank,  and  a  robust 
yellow  man  came  across,  named  Loume.  He  stated  that 
he  was  a  son  of  the  Spanish  governor  of  Louisiana,  and 
a  good  pilot  on  the  river,  and  would  take  our  boat  up 
provided  we  had  four  good  hands,  as  he  had  six.  A 
bargain  was  soon  struck;  their  canoe  hauled  into  the 
woods,  some  blazes  struck  on  the  trees,  and  all  started 
for  Cash  Creek. 

"  The  night  was  spent  in  making  tugs  of  hides  an<} 


'ji 


I 


Wv 


I 


l!i 


11 


I 


40 


Life  of  Auduhon. 


shaving  oars,  and  at  daylight  we  left  the  Creek,  glad  tc 
be  afloat  once  more  in  broader  water.  Going  down  the 
stream  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  was  fine  sport ;  indeed 
my  partner  considered  the  worst  of  the  journey  over , 
out,  alas  !  when  we  turned  the  point,  and  met  the  mighty 
rush  of  the  Mississippi,  running  three  miles  an  hour,  and 
bringing  shoals  of  ice  to  further  impede  our  progress,  he 
looked  on  despairingly.  The  patron  ordered  the  lines 
ashore,  and  it  became  the  duty  of  every  man  '  to  haul  the 
Cordelia,'  which  was  a  rope  fastened  to  the  bow  of  the 
boat ;  and  one  man  being  left  on  board  to  steer,  the  oth- 
ers, laying  the  rope  over  their  shoulders,  slowly  warped 
the  heavy  boat  and  cargo  against  the  current.  We  made 
seven  miles  that  day  up  the  famous  river.  But  while  I 
was  tugging  with  my  back  at  the  cordella,  I  kept  my  eyes 
fixed  on  the  forests  or  the  ground,  looking  for  birds  and 
curious  shells.  At  night  we  camped  on  the  shores.  Here 
we  made  fires,  cooked  supper,  and  setting  one  sentinel, 
the  rest  went  to  bed  and  slept  like  men  who  had  done 
one  good  day's  work.  I  slept  myself  as  unconcerned  as 
if  I  had  '-een  in  my  own  father's  house. 

"The  next  day  I  was  up  early,  and  roused  my  part- 
ner two  hours  before  sunrise,  and  we  began  to  move  the 
boat  at  about  one  mile  an  hour  against  the  current.  We 
had  a  sail  on  board,  but  the  wind  was  ahead,  and  we 
made  ten  miles  that  day.  We  made  our  fires,  and  I  lay 
down  to  sleep  again  in  my  buffalo  robes.  Two  more  days 
of  similar  toil  followed,  when  the  weather  became  severe, 
and  our  patron  ordered  us  to  go  into  winter  quarters,  in 
the  great  bend  of  the  Tawapatee  Bottom.- 

"  The  sorrows  of  my  partner  at  this  dismal  event  were 
too  great  to  be  described.  Wrapped  in  his  blanket,  like 
a  squirrel  in  winter  quarters  with  his  tail  about  his  nose, 
he  slept  and  dreamed  away  his  time,  being  seldom  seeB 
except  at  meals. 


Osage  Indians, 


41 


"  There  was  not  a  white  man's  cabin  within  twent) 
miles,  and  that  over  a  river  we  could  not  cross.  We  cul 
down  trees  and  made  a  winter  camp.  But  a  new  field 
was  opened  to  me,  and  I  rambled  through  the  deep  for- 
ests, and  soon  became  acquainted  with  the  Indian  trails 
and  the  lakes  in  the  neighborhood. 

"  The  Indians  have  the  instinct  or  sagacity  to  discover 
an  encampment  of  white  men  almost  as  quickly  as  vul- 
tures sight  the  carcass  of  a  dead  animal ;  and  I  was  not 
long  in  meeting  strolling  natives  in  the  woods.  They 
gradually  accumulated,  and  before  a  week  had  passed 
great  numbers  of  these  unfortunate  beings  were  around 
us,  chiefly  Osages  and  Shawnees.  The  former  were  well- 
formed,  athletic,  and  robust  men,  of  a  noble  aspect,  and 
kept  aloof  from  the  others.  They  hunted  nothing  but 
large  game,  and  the  few  elks  and  buffaloes  that  remained 
in  the  country.  The  latter  had  been  more  in  contact  with 
the  whites,  were  much  inferior,  and  killed  opossum  and 
wild  turkeys  for  a  subsistence.  The  Osages  being  a  new 
race  to  me,  I  went  often  to  their  camp,  to  study  their 
character  and  habits ;  but  found  much  difficulty  in  be- 
coming acquainted  with  them.  They  spoke  no  French, 
and  only  a  few  words  of  English,  and  their  general  de- 
meanor proved  them  to  be  a  nobler  race.  They  were 
delighted  to  see  me  draw,  and  when  I  made  a  tolerable 
likeness  of  one  of  them  with  red  chalk,  they  cried  out 
with  astonishment,  and  laughed  excessively.  They  stood 
the  cold  much  better  than  the  Shawnees,  and  were  much 
more  expert  with  bows  and  arrows. 

"  The  bones  we  threw  around  our  camp  attracted  ma- 
ny wolves,  and  afforded  us  much  sport  in  hunting  them. 
Here  I  passed  six  weeks  pleasantly,  investigating  the 
habits  of  wild  deer,  bears,  cougars,  racoons,  and  turkeys, 
and  many  other  animals,  and  I  drew  more  or  less  by  the 
side  of  our  great  camp-fire  every  day  ;  and  no  one  cao 


i 


\ 


ll 


tiii-i; 
ti  III 


42 


Life  of  Audubon, 


have  an  idea  of  what  a  good  fire  is  who  has  never  seen  s 
camp-fire  in  the  woods  of  America.  Imagine  four  or  five 
ash-trees,  three  feet  in  diameter  and  sixty  feet  long,  cut 
and  piled  up,  with  all  their  limbs  and  branches,  ten  feet 
high,  and  then  a  fire  kindled  on  the  top  with  brush  and 
dry  leaves  ;  and  then  under  the  smoke  the  party  lies 
down  and  goes  to  sleep. 

"  Here  our  bread  gave  out ;  and  after  using  the  breast 
of  wild  turkeys  for  bread,  and  bear's  grease  for  butter, 
and  eating  opossum  and  bear's  meat  until  our  stomachs 
revolted,  it  was  decided  that  a  Kentuckian  named  Pope, 
our  clerk,  and  a  good  woodsman,  should  go  with  me  to 
the  nearest  settlement  and  try  and  bring  some  Indian 
meal.  On  the  way  we  saw  a  herd  of  deer,  and  turned 
aside  to  shoot  one  ;  and  having  done  so,  and  marked  the 
place,  we  continued  our  journey.  We  walked  until  dusk, 
and  no  river  appeared.  Just  then  I  noticed  an  Indian 
trail,  which  we  supposed  led  to  the  river  ;  and  after  fol- 
lowing it  a  short  distance,  entered  the  camp  we  had  left 
in  the  morning.  My  partner,  finding  that  we  had  no 
wheaten  loaves  in  our  hands,  and  no  bags  of  meal  on  our 
backs,  said  we  were  boobies  ;  the  boatmen  laughed,  the 
Indians  joined  the  chorus,  and  we  ate  some  cold  racoon, 
and  stumbled  into  our  buffalo  robes,  and  were  soon  enjoy- 
ing our  sleep. 

"  The  next  day  we  tried  it  again,  going  directly  across 
the  bend,  suffering  neither  the  flocks  of  tuvkeys  nor  the 
droves  of  deer  we  saw  to  turn  us  aside  until  we  had  Cape 
Girardeau  in  full  sight  an  hour  before  the  setting  of  the 
sun.  The  ice  was  running  swiftly  in  the  river,  and  we 
hailed  in  vain,  for  no  small  boat  dare  put  out.  An  old 
abandoned  log-house  stood  on  our  bank,  and  we  took 
lodgings  there  for  the  night ;  we  made  a  little  fire,  ate  a 
little  dried  bear's  meat  we  had  brought,  and  slept  comfort- 
ably. 


Winter  Experiences 


43 


"What  a  different  life  from  the  one  I  am  lec^ding  nowj 
and  that  night  I  wrote  in  my  journal  exactly  as  i  do  nowj 
and  I  recollect  well  that  I  gathered  more  information  that 
evening  respecting  the  roasting  of  prairie-hens  than  I  had 
ever  done  before  or  since.  Daylight  returned  fair  and 
frosty,  the  trees  covered  with  snow  and  icictes,  shining 
like  jewels  as  the  sun  rose  on  them ;  and  the  wild  turkeys 
seemed  so  dazzled  by  their  brilliancy,  that  they  allowed 
us  to  pass  under  them  without  flying. 

'•  After  a  time  we  saw  a  canoe  picking  its  way  through 
the  mnning  ice.  Through  the  messenger  who  came  in 
the  boat,  we  obtained  after  waiting  nearly  all  day,  a  barrel 
of  flour,  several  bags  of  Indian  meal,  and  a  few  loaves  of 
bread.  Having  rolled  the  flour  to  a  safe  place,  slung  the 
meal  in  a  tree,  and  thrust  our  guii  barrels  through  the 
loaves  of  bread,  we  started  for  our  camp,  and  reached  it 
not  long  after  midn'ght.  Four  men  were  sent  the  next 
morning  with  axes  to  make  a  sledge,  and  drag  tlie  provi- 
sions over  the  snow  to  the  camp. 

"  The  river,  which  had  been  constantly  slowly  rising, 
now  began  to  fall,  and  prepared  new  troubles  for  us  ;  for 
as  the  water  fell  the  ice  clung  to  the  shore,  and  we  were 
forced  to  keep  the  boat  afloat  to  unload  the  cargo.  This, 
with  the  help  of  all  the  Indian  men  and  women,  took  two 
days.  We  then  cut  large  trees,  and  fastened  them  to  the 
shore  above  the  boat,  so  as  to  secure  it  from  the  ice  which 
was  accumulating,  and  to  save  the  boat  from  being  cut  by  it. 
We  were  now  indeed  in  winter  quarters,  and  we  made  the 
best  of  it.  The  Indians  made  baskets  of  cane,  Mr.  Pope 
played  on  the  violin,  I  accompanied  with  the  flute,  the 
men  danced  to  the  tunes,  and  the  squaws  looked  on  and 
laughed,  and  the  hunters  smoked  their  pipes  with  such 
serenity  as  only  Indians  can,  and  I  never  regretted  one 
day  spent  there. 

"While  our  time  went  pleasantly  enough,  a  sudden 


m 


M 


I 


.' 


1 


(III 


Pill 


■ 


44 


Lijd  of  Audubon. 


and  startling  catastrophe  threatened  us  without  warning 
The  ice  began  to  break,  and  our  boat  was  in  instant  dan 
ger  of  being  cut  to  pieces  by  the  ice-floes,  or  swamped 
by  their  pressure.  Roused  from  our  sleep,  we  rushed 
down  pell-mell  to  the  bank,  as  if  attacked  by  savages, 
and  discovered  the  ice  was  breaking  up  rapidly.  It  split 
with  reports  like  those  of  heavy  artillery;  and  as  the 
water  had  suddenly  risen  from  an  overflow  of  the  Ohio, 
the  two  streams  seemed  to  rush  against  each  other  with 
violence,  in  consequence  of  which  the  congealed  mass  was 
broken  into  large  fragments,  some  of  which  rose  nearly 
erect  here  and  there,  and  again  fell  with  thimdering 
crash,  as  the  wounded  whale,  when  in  the  agonies  of 
death,  springs  up  with  furious  force,  and  again  plunges 
into  the  foaming  waters.  To  our  surprise,  the  weather, 
which  in  the  evening  had  been  calm  and  frosty,  had 
become  wet  and  blowy.  The  water  gushed  from  the 
fissures  formed  in  the  ice,  and  the  prospect  was  ex- 
tremely dismal.  When  day  dawned,  a  spectacle  strange 
and  fearful  presented  itself:  the  whole  mass  of  water  was 
violently  agitated ;  its  covering  was  broken  into  small 
fragments,  and  although  not  a  foot  of  space  was  without 
ice,  not  a  step  could  the  most  daring  have  ventured  to 
make  upon  it.  Our  boat  was  in  imminent  danger,  for  the 
trees  which  had  been  placed  to  guard  it  from  the  ice  were 
cut  or  broken  into  pieces,  and  were  thrust  against  her. 
It  was  impossible  to  move  her ;  but  our  pilot  ordered 
every  man  to  bring  down  great  bunches  of  cane,  which 
were  lashed  along  her  sides ;  and  before  these  were 
destroyed  by  the  ice,  she  was  afloat,  and  riding  above  it. 
While  we  were  gazing  on  the  scene,  a  tremendous  crash 
was  heard,  which  seemed  to  have  taken  place  about  a 
mile  below,  when  suddenly  the  great  dam  of  ice  gave 
way.  The  current  of  the  Mississippi  had  forced  its  way 
against  that  of  the  Ohio  ;  and  in  less  than  four  hours  we 
mtnessed  the  complete  bieaking  up  of  the  ice. 


•Mfm 


II 


St,  Genevieve, 


4i 


"  During  that  winter  the  ice  was  so  thick,  the  patron 
said  we  might  venture  to  start.  The  cargo  was  soon  on 
board,  and  the  camp  given  up  to  the  Indians,  after  bid- 
ding mutual  adieus,  as  when  brothers  part.  The  naviga- 
tion was  now  of  the  most  dangerous  kind ;  the  boat  was 
pushed  by  long  poles  on  the  ice,  and  against  the  bottom 
when  it  could  be  touched,  and  we  moved  extiemcly 
slowly.  The  ice  was  higher  than  our  heads,  and  I  fre- 
quently thought  that  if  a  sudden  thaw  should  take  place 
we  should  be  in  great  peril ;  but  fortunately  all  this  was 
escaped,  and  we  reached  safely  the  famous  cape. 

"  But  the  village  was  small,  and  no  market  for  us,  and 
we  determined  to  push  up  to  St.  Genevieve,  and  once 
more  were  in  motion  between  the  ice.  We  arrived  in  a 
few  days  at  the  grand  tower,  where  an  immense  rock  in 
the  stream  makes  the  navigation  dangerous.  Here  we 
used  our  Cordelias,  and  with  great  difficulty  and  peril 
passed  it  safely.  It  was  near  this  famous  tower  of  granite 
that  I  first  saw  the  great  eagle  that  I  have  named  after 
our  good  and  great  General  Washington.  The  weather 
continued  favorable,  and  we  arrived  in  safety  at  St.  Gene- 
vieve, and  found  a  favorable  market.  Our  whiskey  was 
especially  welcome,  and  what  we  had  paid  twenty-five 
cents  a  gallon  for,  brought  us  two  dollars.  St.  Gene 
vibve  was  then  an  old  French  town,  twenty  miles  below 
St.  Louis,  not  so  large,  as  dirty,  and  I  was  not  half  so 
pleased  with  the  time  spent  there  as  with  that  spent  in 
the  Tawapatee  Bottom.  Here  I  met  with  the  Frenchman 
who  accompanied  Lewis  and  Clark  to  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. They  had  just  returned,  and  I  was  delighted  to 
learn  from  them  many  particulars  of  their  interesting 
journey." 


li 


't 


mU' 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Aiulubott  finds  Genancve  unsuitable  —  Return  yoiirney  to  Henderson 
ville —  Terrible  Adventure  on  the  Prairie  —  A^irnno  Escape  from 
Assassination  —  The  Shootint^  of  Mason  —  Earthquakes  in  Ken- 
tucky  —  A  Frantic  Doctor  —  Atiduhon  Suffers  from  new  Afisfor- 
tunes  —  Seventeen  Thovsand  Dollars  lost — Starts  in  Business  at 
Hendersonvilh'y  and  Succeeds  —  Erection  of  a  Mill  and  Reneviea 
Misfortunes  —  Commences  to  draw  Portraits  —  Engagement  ai 
Cincinnati  Museum. 

UDUBON  soon  discovered  that  Genevibve  was 
no  pleasant  place  to  live  in.  If  copulation 
were  mostly  low-bred  French  C  "ans,  for 
A^hose  company,  notwithstanding  certain  national  sym- 
pathies, he  had  no  liking.  He  wearied  to  be  back  at 
Hendersonville  beside  his  young  wife.  Rosier  got  mar- 
ried at  Genevibve,  and  to  him  Audubon  sold  his  interest 
in  the  business.  The  naturalist  purchased  a  horse,  bade 
adieu  to  his  partner,  to  the  society  of  Genevibve,  and 
started  homeward  across  the  country.  During  this  jour- 
ney Audubon  met  with  a  terrible  adventure,  and  made  a 
miraculous  escape  from  impending  death.  This  episode 
in  Audubon's  life  is  related  by  him  in  the  following 
words : — 

"  On  my  return  from  the  upper  Mississippi,  I  found 
myself  obliged  to  cross  one  of  the  wild  prairies,  which, 
in  that  portion  of  the  United  States,  vary  the  appearance 
of  the  country.  The  weather  was  fine,  all  around  me 
was  as  fresh  and  blooming  as  if  it  had  just  issued  from 
the  bosom  of  nature.  My  knapsack,  my  gun,  and  my 
dog  were  all   I   had  for  baggage  and  company.      But, 


Iv 


Adventure  on  the  Prair.e, 


49 


although  wlMI  moccasined,  I  moved  slowly  along,  attracted 
by  the  brilliancy  of  the  f  lowcrs,  and  the  gandjols  of  the 
fawns  around  their  dams,  to  all  appearance  as  thoughtless 
of  danger  as  I  felt  myself. 

"  My  march  was  of  long  duration.  I  saw  the  sun 
sinking  beneath  the  horizon  long  before  I  could  perceive 
any  appearance  of  woodlands,  and  nothing  in  the  shape  of 
man  had  I  met  with  that  day.  The  track  which  I  fol- 
lowed was  only  an  old  Indian  trail,  and  as  darkness 
overshadowed  the  prairie,  I  felt  some  desire  to  reach  at 
least  a  copse,  in  which  I  might  lie  down  to  rest.  The 
night-hawks  were  skimming  over  and  around  me, 
attracted  by  the  buzzing  wings  of  the  beetles  which 
form  their  food,  and  the  distant  howling  of  the  wolves 
gave  me  some  hope  that  I  should  soon  arrive  at  the  skirts 
of  some  woodland. 

"  I  did  so,  and  almost  at  the  same  instant  a  fire-light 
attracting  my  eye,  I  moved  towards  it,  full  of  confidence 
that  it  proceeded  from  the  camp  of  some  wandering 
Indians.  I  was  mistaken.  I  discovered  by  its  glare  that 
it  was  from  the  hearth  of  a  small  log  cabin,  and  that  a 
tall  figure  passed  and  repassed  between  it  and  me,  as  if 
busily  engaged  in  household  arrangements. 

"  I  reached  the  spot,  and  presenting  myself  at  the 
door,  asked  the  tall  figure,  which  proved  to  be  a  woman, 
if  I  might  take  shelter  under  her  roof  for  the  night  ?  Her 
voice  was  gruff,  and  her  dress  negligently  thrown  about 
her.  She  answered  in  the  affirmative.  I  walked  in,  took 
a  wooden  stool,  and  quietly  seated  myself  by  the  fire. 
The  next  object  that  attracted  my  notice  was  a  finely 
formed  young  Indian,  resting  his  head  between  his  hands, 
with  his  elbows  on  his  knees.  A  long  bow  rested  against 
the  log  wall  near  him,  while  a  quantity  of  arrows  and  two 
or  three  racoon  skins  lay  at  his  feet.  He  moved  not  j 
he  apparently  breathed  not.     Accustomed  to  the  habits 


si 


-*!!^" 


f 


t|ii 


I 


if" 


iHf 


|! 


48 


L//'^  of  Auduhon. 


of  the  Indians,  and  knowing  that  they  pay  little  attention 
to  the  approach  of  civilized  strangers,  I  addressed  him  in 
French,  a  language  not  unfrequently  partially  known  tc 
the  people  of  that  neighbourhood.  He  raised  his  head, 
pointed  to  one  of  his  eyes  with  his  finger,  and  gave  me  a 
significant  glance  with  the  other  \  his  face  was  covered 
with  blood. 

"  The  fact  was,  that  an  hour  before  this,  as  he  was  in 
the  act  of  discharging  an  arrow  at  a  racoon  in  the  top  of 
a  tree,  the  arrow  had  split  upon  the  cord,  and  sprung  back 
with  such  violence  into  his  right  eye  as  to  destroy  it  for 
ever. 

"  Feeling  hungry,  I  inquired  what  sort  of  fare  I  might 
expect.  Such  a  thing  as  a  bed  was  not  to  be  seen,  but 
many  large  untanned  buffalo  hides  lay  piled  in  a  corner. 
I  drew  a  time-piece  from  my  pocket,  and  told  the  woman 
that  it  was  late,  and  that  I  was  fatigued.  vShe  espied  my 
watch,  the  richness  of  which  seemed  to  operate  on  her 
feelings  with  electric  quickness.  She  told  me  there  was 
plenty  of  venison  and  jerked  buffalo  meat,  and  that  on 
removing  the  ashes  I  should  find  a  cake.  But  my  watch 
had  struck  her  fancy,  and  her  curiosity  had  to  be  grati- 
fied by  an  immediate  sight  of  it.  I  took  off  the  gold 
chain  which  secured  it  around  my  neck,  and  presented  it 
to  her.  She  was  all  ecstasy,  spoke  of  its  beauty,  asked 
me  its  value,  and  put  the  chain  round  her  brawny  neck, 
saying  how  happy  the  possession  of  such  a  watch  would 
make  her.  Thoughtless,  and,  as  I  fancied  myself,  in  so 
retired  a  spot,  secure,  I  paid  little  attention  to  her  talk  or 
her  Tiovements.  I  helped  my  dog  to  a  good  supper  of 
V  .nison,  and  was  not  long  in  satisfying  the  demands  of 
my  own  appetite. 

"The  Indian  rose  from  his  seat  as  if  in  extreme 
suffering.  He  passed  and  repassed  me  several  times,  and 
once  pinched  me  on  the  side  so  violently,  that  the  pain 


Adventure  on  the  Prairie, 


49 


;tention 
1  him  in 
town  tc 
s  head, 
re  me  a 
covered 

I  was  in 
t  top  of 
ing  back 
ly  it  for 

:  I  might 
gen,  but 
corner. 
;  woman 
ipied  my 
on  her 
lere  was 
that  on 
ly  watch 
DC  grati- 
le  gold 
ented  it 
asked 
ny  neck, 
would 
f,  in  so 
ir  talk  or 
pper  of 
ands  of 


h 


nearly  brought  forth  an  exclamation  of  anger.  I  looked 
at  him,  his  eye  met  mine,  but  his  look  was  so  forbidding, 
that  it  struck  a  chill  into  the  more  nervous  part  of  my 
system.  He  again  seated  himself,  drew  his  butcher-knife 
from  its  greasy  scabbard,  examined  its  edge,  as  I  would 
do  that  of  a  razor  suspected  dull,  replaced  it,  and  again 
taking  his  tomr\hawk  from  his  back,  filled  the  pipe  of  it 
with  tobacco,  and  sent  me  expressive  glances  whenever 
our  hostess  chanced  to  have  her  back  towards  us. 

"Never  until  that  moment  had  my  senses  been 
awakened  to  the  danger  which  I  now  suspected  to  be 
about  me.  I  returned  glance  for  glance  to  my  con  panion, 
and  rested  well  assured  that,  whatever  enemies  1  might 
have,  he  was  not  of  their  number. 

"  I  asked  the  woman  for  my  watch,  wound  it  up,  and 
under  the  pretence  of  wishing  to  see  how  the  weather 
might  probably  be  on  the  morrow,  took  up  my  gun,  and 
walked  out  of  the  cabin.  I  slipped  a  ball  into  each 
barrel,  scraped  the  edges  of  my  flints,  renewed  the 
primings,  and  leturning  to  the  hut,  gave  a  favorable 
account  of  my  observations,  i  took  a  few  bear-skins, 
made  a  pallet  of  them,  and  calling  my  faithful  dog  to  my 
side,  lay  down,  vith  my  gun  close  to  my  body,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  was  to  all  appearance  fast  asleep. 

"  A  short  time  had  elapsed  when  some  voices  were 
heard,  and  from  the  corner  of  my  eyes  I  saw  two  athletic 
youths  making  their  entrance,  bearing  a  dead  stag  on  a 
pole.  They  disposed  of  their  burden,  and  asking  for 
whiskey,  helped  themselves  freely  to  it.  Observing  me 
and  the  wounded  Indian,  they  asked  who  I  was,  and  why 
the  devil  that  rascal  (meaning  the  Indian,  who,  they  knew, 
understood  not  a  word  of  English)  was  in  the  house  ? 
The  mother,  for  so  she  proved  to  be,  bade  them  speak  less 
loudly,  made  mention  of  my  watch,  and  took  them  to  a 
comer,  where  a  conversation  took  place,  the  purport  of 


II 


"W 


:ll! 


M 


SO 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


4i 


IN 


which  it  required  little  shrewdness  in  me  to  guess.  I 
tapped  my  dog  gently,  he  moved  his  tail,  and  with 
indescribable  pleasure  I  saw  his  fine  eyes  alternately 
fixed  on  me  and  raised  towards  the  trio  in  the  corner. 
I  felt  that  he  perceived  danger  in  my  situation.  The 
Indian  exchanged  the  last  glance  with  me. 

"  The  lads  had  eaten  and  drunk  themselves  into  such 
condition  that  I  already  looked  upon  them  as  hors  de com- 
bat ;  and  the  frequent  visits  of  the  whiskey  bottle  to  the 
ugly  mouth  of  their  dam,  I  hoped  would  soon  reduce  her 
to  a  like  state.  Judge  of  my  astonishment  when  I  saw 
that  incarnate  fiend  take  a  large  carving-knife,  and  go  to 
the  grindstone  to  whet  its  edge.  I  saw  her  pour  the  water 
on  the  turning  machine,  and  watched  her  working  away 
with  the  dangerous  instrument,  until  the  cold  sweat 
covered  every  part  of  my  body,  in  despite  of  my  determin- 
ation to  defend  myself  to  the  last.  Her  task  finished, 
she  walked  to  her  reeling  sons,  and  said,  *  There,  that'll 

soon  settle  him !     Boys,  kill  yon ,  and  then  for  the 

watch ! ' 

"  I  turned,  cocked  my  gim-locks  silently,  touched  my 
faithful  companion,  and  lay  ready  to  start  up  and  shoot 
the  first  who  might  attempt  my  life.  The  moment  was 
fast  approaching,  and  that  night  might  have  been  my  last 
in  this  world,  had  not  Providence  made  provision  for  my 
rescue.  All  was  ready.,  The  infernal  hag  was  advancing 
slowly,  probably  contemplating  the  best  way  of  despatch- 
ing me  whilst  her  sons  should  be  engaged  with  the  Indian. 
I  was  several  times  on  the  eve  of  rising,  and  shooting  her 
on  the  spot,  but  she  was  not  to  be  punished  thus.  The 
door  was  suddenly  opened,  and  there  entered  two  stout 
travellers,  each  with  a  long  rifle  on  his  shoulder.  I 
bounced  up  on  my  feet,  and  making  them  most  heartily 
welcome,  told  them  how  well  it  was  for  mc  that  the) 
should  have  aiiived  at  that  moment.     The  tale  was  told 


Regulator  Law. 


51 


in  a  minute.  The  drunken  sons  were  secured,  and  the 
woman,  in  spite  of  her  defence  and  vociferations,  shared 
the  same  fate.  The  Indian  fairly  danced  with  joy,  and 
gave  us  to  understand  that,  as  he  coul  i  not  sleep  for 
pain,  he  would  watch  over  us.  You  may  suppose  we 
slept  much  less  than  we  talked.  The  two  strangers  gave 
me  an  account  of  their  once  having  been  themselves  in  a 
similar  situation.  Day  came  fair  and  rosy,  and  with  it  the 
punishment  of  our  captives. 

"  They  were  quite  sobered.  Their  feet  were  unbound, 
but  their  arms  were  still  securely  tied.  We  marched 
them  into  the  woods  off  the  road,  and  having  used  them 
as  Regulators  were  wont  to  use  such  delinquents,  we  set 
fire  to  the  cabin,  gave  all  the  skins  and  implements  to  the 
young  Indian  warrior,  and  proceeded,  well  pleased, 
towards  the  settlements." 

At  the  period  at  which  this  incident  occurred 
"  Regulator  Law  "  was  the  high  tribunal  in  the  Western 
States.  A  savage  and  outcast  population  fringed  the 
settled  territories,  and  ninong  these  the  most  dastardly 
crimes  were  current.  "Regulator  Law"  was  admin- 
istered by  a  body  of  American  citizens,  and  was  akin  to 
a  Vigilance  Committee  in  its  self-assumed  functions. 
The  punishment  of  felons,  who  could  defy  or  were  likely 
to  escape  the  law  of  the  land,  was  the  special  duty  of  the 
Regulators,  and  the  name  acquired  a  terrible  significance 
in  the  western  wilds.  Audubon  relates  that  a  notorious 
freebooter,  named  Mason,  frequented  Wolf's  Island  in  the 
Mississippi,  and  with  a  gang  of  marauders  played  pirate 
with  impunity  in  that  river.  He  stripped  the  laden 
barges  of  all  the  valuables,  stole  horses,  and  proved  him- 
self to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  the  law.  A  party  of  Reg- 
ulators descended  the  river,  but  failed  to  find  him. 
Finally,  he  was  shot  through  the  ready  wit  of  one  man 
This   Regulator  met    the    ruffian    in    the  forest,   and 


*i3 

m 


^^w 


52 


Life  of  Audubon, 


n 


liit^itii 


!!!!! 


unsuspected,  turned  after  h'm  and  dogged  his  stepSi 
Mason  retired  to  a  quiet  dell,  hobbled  his  horse  to  pre* 
*^ent  it  escaping,  and  crept  into  a  hollow  tree.  The 
Regulator  went  off  for  assistance  to  the  nearest  place, 
and  returning  with  armed  men,  the  plunderer  was  shot 
down,  and  his  severed  head  was  stuck  on  a  pole  hard  by, 
to  deter  others  from  following  the  same  life.  The  punish- 
ment adjudged  by  these  Regulators  was  mercifully 
apportioned  to  the  crimes  of  the  evil-doers  ;  but  Audubon 
relates  a  rather  severe  sentence  passed  upon  one  who  was 
neither  thief  nor  murderer. 

"  The  culprit,"  says  Audubon,  "  was  taken  to  a  place 
where  nettles  were  known  to  grow  in  great  abundance, 
completely  stripped,  and  so  lashed  with  them,  that 
although  not  materially  hurt,  he  took  it  as  a  hint  not  to 
be  neglected,  left  the  country,  and  was  never  again  heard 
of  by  any  of  the  party  concerned." 

In  November,  181 2,  soon  after  his  father's  return  to 
Hendersonville,  Audubon's  second  son,  John  Woodhouse, 
was  born.  John  Woodhouse  and  his  only  brother,  Victor, 
were  destined  to  become  companions  of  their  father  in 
his  hunting  expeditions,  and  were  afterwards  able  to 
assist  materially  in  collecting  and  drawing  birds  for  the 
great  work. 

A  few  weeks  after  Audubon's  return  to  Hen- 
dersonville, the  western  section  of  the  state  of  Ken- 
tucky and  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  suffered  from  a 
very  severe  shock  of  earthquake.  In  the  month  of 
November,  the  Naturalist  was  riding  along  on  horseback, 
when  he  heard  what  he  imagined  to  be  the  distant 
rumbling  of  a  violent  tornado.  "  On  which,"  says  he, "  I 
spurred  my  steed,  with  a  wish  to  gallop  as  fast  as  possible 
to  the  place  of  shelter.  But  it  would  not  do  ;  the  animal 
knew  better  than  I  what  was  forthcoming,  and  instead  of 
going  faster,  so  nearly  stopped,  that  I  remarked  he  placed 


An  Earthquake, 


53 


one  foot  after  another  on  the  ground  with  as  much  pre- 
caution as  if  walking  on  a  smooth  sheet  of  ice.  I  thought 
he  had  su'ldenly  foundered,  and,  speaking  to  him,  was  on 
the  point  of  dismounting  and  leading  him,  when  he  all  oi 
a  sudden  fell  a  groaning  piteously,  hung  his  head,  spread 
out  his  four  legs,  as  if  to  save  himself  from  falling,  and 
stood  stock  still,  continuing  to  groan.  I  thought  m} 
horse  was  about  to  die,  and  would  have  sprung  from  his 
back  had  a  minute  more  elapsed ;  but  at  that  instant  all 
the  shrubs  and  trees  began  to  move  from  their  very  roots, 
the  ground  rose  and  fell  in  successive  furrows,  like  the 
ruffled  waters  of  a  lake,  and  I  became  bewildered  in  my 
ideas,  as  I  too  plainly  discovered  that  all  this  awful 
commotion  in  nature  was  the  result  of  an  earthquake. 

"  I  had  never  witnessed  anything  of  the  kind  before, 
although  like  every  other  person,  I  knew  of  earthquakes 
by  description.  But  what  is  description  compared  with 
reality  ?  Who  can  tell  of  the  sensations  which  I  experi- 
enced when  I  found  myself  rocking,  as  it  were,  upon  my 
horse,  and  with  him  moved  to  and  fro  like  a  child  in  a 
cradle,  with  the  most  imminent  danger  around  me  ?  The 
fearful  convulsion,  however,  lasted  only  a  few  minutes, 
and  the  heavens  again  bright^'  :d  as  quickly  as  they  had 
become  obscured;  my  horse  brought  his  feet  to  the 
natural  position,  raised  his  head,  and  galloped  off  as  il 
loose  and  frolicking  without  a  rider. 

"I  was  not,  however,  without  great  apprehension 
respecting  my  family,  from  which  I  was  many  miles 
distant,  fearful  that  where  they  were  the  shock  might  have 
caused  greater  havoc  than  that  I  had  witnessed.  I  gave 
the  bridle  to  my  steed,  and  was  glad  ,to  see  him  appear  as 
anxious  to  get  home  as  myself  The  pace  at  which  he 
galloped  accomplished  this  sooner  than  I  had  expected, 
and  I  found,  with  much  pleasure,  that  hardly  any  greater 
harm  had  taken  place  than  the  apprehension  excited  foi 


i 


s  :  'i. 


i 


1 


it* 


% 


54 


Life  of  Audubon, 


my  own  safety.  Shock  succeeded  shock  almost  ever} 
day  or  night  for  several  weeks,  diminishing  however,  so 
gradually,  as  to  dwindle  away  into  mere  vibrations  of  the 
earth.  Strange  to  say,  I  for  one  became  so  accustomed 
to  the  feeling;,  as  rather  to  enjoy  the  fears  manifested  by 
others.  I  never  can  forget  the  effects  of  or^,  of  the 
slighter  shocks  which  took  place  when  I  was  at  a  friend's 
house,  where  I  had  gone  to  enjoy  the  merriment  that  in 
our  western  country  attends  a  wedding.  The  ceremony 
being  performed,  supper  over,  and  ♦^he  fiddles  tuned, 
dancing  became  the  order  of  the  moment.  This  was 
merrily  followed  up  to  a  late  hour,  when  the  party  retired 
to  rest.  We  were  in  what  is  called,  with  great  propriety, 
a  log-house  ;  one  of  large  dimensions,  and  solidly  con- 
structed. The  owner  was  a  physician,  and  in  one  corner 
were  not  only  his  lancets,  tourniquets,  amputating  knives, 
and  other  sanguinary  apparatus,  but  all  the  drugs  which 
he  employed  for  therelief  of  his  patients,  arranged  in  jars 
and  phials  of  different  sizes.  These  had  some  days 
before  made  a  narrow  escape  from  destruction,  but  had 
been  fortunately  preserved  by  closing  the  doors  of  the 
cases  in  which  they  were  contained. 

"As  I  have  said,  we  had  all  retired  to  rest.  Morning 
was  fast  approaching,  when  the  rumbling  noise  that  pre- 
cedes the  earthquake  began  so  loudly  as  to  awaken  the 
whole  party  and  drive  them  out  of  bed  in  the  greatest 
consternation.  The  scene  which  ensued  was  humorous 
in  the  extreme.  Fear  knows  no  restraint.  Every  per- 
son, old  and  young,  filled  with  alarm  at.  the  creaking 
of  the  log-house,  and  apprehending  instant  destruction, 
rushed  wildly  out  to  the  grass  enclosure  fronting  the 
building.  The  full  moon  was  slowly  descending  from 
her  throne,  covered  at  times  by  clouds  that  rolled  heavily 
along,  as  if  to  conceal  from  her  view  the  scenes  of  terroi 
which  prevailed  on  earth  below. 


.»!:< 


Business  Misadventure, 


5S 


"  On  the  grass-plot  we  all  met,  in  such  condition  as 
rendered  it  next  to  impossible  to  discriminate  any  of  the 
party,  all  huddled  together  in  a  state  of  almost  perfect 
nudity.  The  earth  waved  like  a  field  of  corn  before  the 
breeze ;  the  birds  left  their  perches,  and  flew  about  not 
knowing  whither ;  and  the  doctor,  recollecting  the  dan- 
ger of  his  gallipots,  ran  to  his  office,  to  prevent  their 
dancing  off"  the  shelves  to  the  floor.  Never  for  a  moment 
did  he  think  of  closing  the  doors,  but,  spreading  his  arms, 
jumped  about  the  front  of  the  cases,  pushing  back  here 
and  there  the  falling  jars,  but  with  so  little  success,  that 
before  the  shock  was  over  he  had  lost  nearly  all  he  pos- 
sessed. 

"The  shock  at  length  ceased,  and  the  frightened 
females,  now  sensible  of  their  dishabille,  fled  to  their 
several  apartments.  The  earthquakes  produced  more 
serious  consequences  in  other  places.  Near  New  Madrid, 
and  for  some  distance  on  the  Mississippi,  the  earth  was 
rent  asunder  in  several  places,  one  or  two  islands  sunk 
forever,  and  the  inhaoitants  who  escaped  fled  in  dismay 
towards  the  eastern  shores." 

While  resident  at  Hendersc  nville,  Audubon  entered 
upon  a  new  adventure  with  his  I  rother-in-law  to  carry  on 
business  at  New  Orleans,  under  the  firm  of  "  Audubon  & 
Co."  In  this  speculation  he  embarked  all  the  fortune  at 
his  disp  Dsal ;  but  instead  of  attending  to  his  interests  he 
remained  hunting  in  Kentucky,  and  soon  afterwards  was 
informed  that  all  his  money  had  been  swept  away  in  busi- 
ness misadventures. 

At  this  juncture  the  father  of  Audubon  died ;  but 
from  some  unfortunate  cause  he  did  not  receive  legal 
notice  for  more  than  a  year.  On  becon  g  acquainted 
with  the  fact  he  travelled  to  Philadelphia  to  obtain  funds, 
but  was  unsuccessful.  His  father  had  left  him  his  prop- 
erty in  France  of  La  Gibit^re,  and  seventeen  thousanr! 


'i 


T 


*^ 


h 


il  n 


I'll 


Ml 

iijliii 

Ill 


56 


Life  of  AuduhotL 


dollars  which  had  been  def/osited  with  a  merchant  in 
Richmond,  Virginia.  Audubon,  however,  took  no  steps 
to  obtain  possession  of  his  estate  in  France,  and  in  after 
years,  when  his  sons  had  grown  up,  sent  one  of  them  to 
France,  for  the  purpose  of  legally  transferring  the  prop- 
erty to  his  own  sister  Rosa.  The  merchant  whg  held 
possession  of  the  seventeen  thousand  dollars  would  not 
deliver  them  up  until  Audubon  proved  himself  to  be  the 
son  of  Commodore  Audubon.  Before  this  could  be  done 
the  merchant  died  insolvent,  and  the  legatee  never  recov- 
ered a  dollar  of  his  money.  Returning  from  Philadelphia 
to  Hendersonville,  the  unfortunate  Audubon  cheerfully 
endeavored  to  provide  for  the  future,  about  which  he  felt 
considerable  anxiety.  Gathering  a  few  hundred  dollars, 
he  purchased  some  goods  in  Louisville,  and  returned  to 
business  in  Hendersonville.  In  his  journey  he  met  with 
General  Toledo,  who  was  raising  volunteers  to  go  to 
South  America,  and  who  offered  him  a  colonel's  commis- 
sion in  the  adventure.  Audubon,  however,  preferred 
remaining  at  home.  The  business  prospered;  he  pur- 
chased land  and  a  log  cabin,  with  a  family  of  negroes 
thereto,  and  seemed  to  be  comfortably  settled. 

The  prosperous  career  of  Audubon  was  prematurely 
closed  by  the  arrival  of  a  former  partner,  who  joined  him, 
and  whose  presence  seemed  to  herald  disaster.  This 
partner  advised  him  to  erect  a  steam  mill  at  Henderson- 
ville, a  place  which  was  totally  unfitted  for  any  such  specu- 
lation. An  Englishman,  named  Thomas  Pease,  joined 
in  partnership,  and  having  lost  his  money  in  an  absurd 
project,  separated  from  Audubon  on  no  pleasant  terms. 
In  order  to  carry  on  the  mill  with  renewed  vigor,  other 
partners  were  added ;  and  in  connection  with  it  Mr. 
Apperson  was  established  at  Shawnee  Town,  Mr.  Ben- 
jamin Harrison  at  ^'incennes  in  Indiana,  and  Nathaniel 
Pope,  an  old  clerk  of  Audubon's,  on  the  Mississippi 


Removal  to  Louisiille, 


57 


1.1 

ril 


river.  All  c/  these  parlies  failed  in  supporting  the 
concern  at  Hendersonville,  which  was  only  continued 
through  the  desperate  measure  of  taking  in  still  more 
partners.  Finally,  the  mill  went  down,  after  ruining  all 
concerned.  The  naturalist  speaks  with  bitterness  of  the 
"infernal  mill,"  and  in  an  equally  fierce  strain  of  a 
steamer  purchased  by  the  concern,  and  afterwards  sold 
to  a  party  down  the  Mississippi,  who  cheated  the  sellers 
out  of  most  of  the  purchase  money.  From  this  date  his 
difficulties  appeared  to  increase  daily ;  bills  fell  due,  and 
unmeasured  vexations  assailed  him.  He  handed  over 
all  he  possessed,  and  left  Hendersonville  with  his  sick 
wife,  his  gun,  his  dog,  and  his  drawings, — but  without 
feeling  really  depressed  at  his  prospects.  The  family 
reached  Louisville,  where  they  were  kindly  received  by 
a  relative,  and  Audubon  had  time  to  think  over  some 
scheme  for  raising  support  for  his  family.  Possessed 
of  considerable  skill  as  an  artist  in  crayons,  he  conceived 
tlie  project  of  starting  as  a  portrait  draughtsman.  As  he 
started  at  very  low  prices,  his  skill  soon  became  known, 
and  in  a  few  weeks  he  had  as  much  work  as  he  could  do. 
His  family  were  settled  with  him,  and  his  business  spread 
so  far  into  Kentucky,  that  affluence  was  again  enjoyed  by 
the  wanderer.  Audubon  succeeded  so  well  in  portraying 
the  features  of  the  dead,  that  a  clergyman's  child  was 
exhumed  in  order  that  the  •'rtist  might  have  an  opportu- 
nity of  taking  a  portrait  of  the  corpse. 

In  illustration  of  his  r  putation  as  a  crayon  drawer, 
Audubon  relates  that  a  settler  came  for  him  in  the  middle 
of  the  night  from  a  considerable  distance,  to  have  the 
portrait  of  his  mother  taken  while  she  was  on  the  eve  of 
death.  Audubon  went  with  the  farmer  in  his  wagon,  and 
with  the  aid  of  a  candle  made  a  satisfactoiy  sketch.  This 
success  brought  other  successes,  and  the  portrait  painter 
seemed  to  have  got  a  new  start  in  life.  Shortly  after 
3* 


lit 


s« 


Life  of  Audubon, 


wards  he  received  an  invitation  to  become  a  curator  of 
the  museum  at  Cincinnati,  and  for  the  preparation  of 
birds  received  a  hberal  remuneration.  In  conjunction 
with  this  situation  he  opened  a  drawing  school  in  the 
same  city,  and  obtained  from  this  employment  additional 
emolument  sufficient  to  support  his  family  comfortably. 
His  teaching  succeeded  well  until  several  of  his  pupils 
started  on  their  own  account.  The  work  at  the  museum 
having  been  finished,  Audubon  fell  back  upon  his  portrait 
painting  and  such  resources  as  his  genius  could  command. 
Applying  for  assistance  to  an  old  friend  whom  he  had 
aided  and  assisted  into  business,  the  ungrateful  wretch 
declared  he  would  do  nothing  for  his  benefactor,  and 
further  added  that  he  would  not  even  recommend  one 
who  had  such  wandering  habits.  On  more  occasions 
than  this  his  genius  for  discovery  was  made  an  argu- 
ment against  him. 


^^ 


MM 


m\m 


CHAPTER   V. 

Rambles  in  Kentucky — Migrations  into  the  Wilds  of  ICentucky— Rifli 
Shooting —  Drivini^  Nails  with  BulUti — Danil  Boone  "  Bark- 
ing Squirrel '^^ — Festivities  on  Bear  grass  Creek — Wild  Scenes  in 
the  Woods — Hunting  the  Racoon —  Visit  from  the  Eccentric  Nat' 
uralist,  Rafinesque — Daniel  Boone,  the  Famous  Hunter. 


URING  his  residence  in  Kentucky,  Audubon 
spent  all  his  leisure  time  in  rambles  through 
the  wilds   in  search  of  natural   history  speci- 

A  variety  of  amusing  incidents  occurred  in  these 


mens. 


travels,  and  the  wanderer  has  given  several  of  these  in  a 
full  and  connected  form.  His  ready  gun  supplied  abun- 
dant fare  to  his  homely  table.  Wild  turkeys,  deer,  and 
bears  supplied  constant  wants,  after  a  fashion  that  suited 
the  hunter  well.  While  resident  there,  a  flat-boat  reached 
the  shore,  containing  ten  or  twelve  stout  fellows  with  their 
wives,  and  declaring  themselves  to  be  "  Yankees,"  asked 
for  work  as  wood  cutters.  Audubon,  thinking  that  the 
boat  contained  wheat,  held  parley  with  the  occupants, 
and  finding  that  they  were  "  likely "  fellows,  proposed  to 
engage  them  to  cut  down  a  government  lot  of  one  thou- 
sand two  hundred  acres  of  fine  timber  he  had  purchased. 
The  wood  cutters  made  fast  their  craft  to  the  bank,  started 
a  camp  on  shore,  and,  with  their  wives,  managed  to  cook 
their  meals  out  of  the  game  supplied  by  the  forest. 
Audubon  and  his  miller  visited  the  camp  in  the  morning, 
was  rather  pleased  with  the  appearance  of  the  fellows, 
and  engaged  the  gang.     Commencing  work,  they  soon 


I 


^.M  . 


60 


Life  of  Audubon. 


showed  their  excellent  training,  felling?  the  trees  after  the 
fashion  of  experienced  woodmen.  The  daily  and  weekly 
allowance  of  wood  contracted  for  was  safely  delivered, 
and  Audubon  had  reason  to  feel  uiuch  contentment  with 
his  servants.  The  miller  was  satisfied  ;  and  the  master, 
to  prove  his  appreciation  of  the  valuable  services,  sent 
various  presents  of  game  and  provisions  to  the  strangers. 
Finding  they  had  neglected  to  forward  their  usual  supply 
one  day,  Audubon  went  off  to  their  camp,  found  that 
the  "  Yankees "  had  gone  off  bodily,  had  taken  his 
draught  oxen  with  them,  and  had  harried  the  place  of 
all  that  could  be  lifted.  He  and  his  miller  hunted  down 
the  river  for  the  fugitives,  but  they  had  got  a  start  and 
were  not  to  be  caught.  Finding  an  escape  into  the 
Mississippi,  the  runaways  voyaged  out  of  reach  of  their 
victim,  and  a  raie  accident  alone  placed  one  of  them 
within  Audubon's  power.  While  on  board  a  Mississippi 
steamer,  Audubon  saw  a  hunter  leave  the  shore  in  a 
canoe  and  reach  the  steamer.  No  sooner  had  the  pas- 
senger reached  the  deck,  than  he  recognized  in  him  one 
of  his  plunderers ;  but  the  woodcutter,  fearing  an  arrest, 
leaped  into  the  str.'  m  and  swam  t  "wards  the  shore. 
Entering  a  canebrake,  he  was  lost  to  sight,  and  the 
naturalist  was  never  gratified  by  either  hearing  of,  or 
seeing  any  one  of  the  fellows  again. 

In  referring  to  Kentuckian  sports,  Audubon  remarks 
that  that  State  was  a  sort  of  promised  land  for  all  sorts  of 
wandering  adventurers  from  the  Eastern  states.  Families 
cast  loose  from  their  homesteads  beyond  .the  mountains, 
wandered  westward  with  their  wagons,  servants,  cattle, 
and  household  gods.  Bivouacking  by  some  spring,  in 
a  glade  of  the  primeval  forest,  near  some  well  known 
"  salt  lick,"  where  game  would  be  plentiful,  these  West- 
ern representatives  of  the  patriarchs  moved  on  towards 
new  resting-places,  from  which  the  red  man,  not  without 


Kentucky  Sports, 


6] 


serious  danger,  had  been  driven.  When  a  voyage  by 
water  was  meditated  as  the  easiest  means  of  transporting 
the  family  and  the  baggage,  a  group  of  emigrants  would 
build  an  ark  on  some  creek  of  the  upper  waters  of  thf 
Ohio,  and  in  a  craft  forty  or  fifty  feet  long  drift  down  the 
stream,  carrying  upon  the  roof  the  bodies  of  carts  and 
wagons,  upon  the  sides  the  wheels  of  the  same. 

Within  these  floating  mansions  the  wayfarers  lived, 
not  without  fear  of  impending  dangers.  To  show  a  light 
through  the  loopholes  within  range  of  a  redskin's  rifle 
was  certain  death  to  tho  inmate ;  and  night  and  day, 
while  these  arks  drifted  under  umbrageous  forests,  their 
occupants  were  busy  considering  hovv  their  lives  might 
be  most  dearly  sold.  Audubon  notices  curious  practices 
connected  with  testing  the  skill  of  marksmen,  not  uncom- 
mon in  his  own  time  in  Virginia.  "  At  stat(;d  times, 
those  desiring  a  trial  of  skill  would  be  assembled,"  writes 
the  naturalist,  "  and  betting  a  trifling  sum,  put  up  a  target, 
in  the  centre  of  which  a  common-sized  nail  is  hammered 
for  about  two-thirds  of  its  length.  The  marksmen  make 
choice  of  what  ihey  considei-  a  proper  distance,  which 
may  be  forty  paces.  Each  man  cleans  the  interior  of  his 
barrel,  which  is  called  wiping  it,  places  a  ball  in  the  palm 
of  his  hand,  pouring  as  much  powder  from  his  horn  upon 
it  as  will  cover  it.  This  quantity  is  supposed  to  be  suffi- 
cient for  any  distance  within  a  hundred  yards.  A  shot 
which  comes  very  close  to  the  nail  is  considered  that  of 
an  indifferent  marksman ;  the  bending  of  the  nail  is,  of 
course,  somewhat  better ;  but  nothing  less  than  hitting  it 
right  on  the  head  is  satisfactoiy.  One  out  of  three  shots 
generally  hits  the  nail,  and  should  the  shooters  amount 
to  half-a-dozen,  two  nails  are  frequently  needed  before 
each  can  have  a  shot.  Those  who  drive  the  nail  have  a 
further  trial  amongst  themselves,  and  the  two  best  shots 
out  of  these  generally  settle  the  affair;  when  all  the 


i 

i 


6i 


Life  of  Audubon, 


^*l: 


sportsmen  adjourn  to  some  house,  and  spend  an  hour  oi 
two  in  friendly  intercourse,  appointing,  before  they  part, 
a  day  for  another  trial." 

While  at  the  town  of  Frankfort,  Audubon  had  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  the  celebrated  Daniel  Boone 
"  barking  squirrels,"  or,  in  less  technical  phrase,  driv- 
ing them  out  of  their  hiding-places  by  firing  into  the 
bark  of  the  tree  immediately  beside  the  position  they 
crouch  into.  Audubon  went  out  with  Boone  to  see  the 
sport,  an'^  writes: — 

"  We  walked  out  together,  and  followed  the  rocky 
margins  of  the  Kentucky  river  until  we  reached  a  piece 
of  flat  land  thickly  covered  with  black  walnuts,  oaks,  and 
hickories.  As  the  mast  was  a  good  one  that  year,  squir- 
rels were  seen  gamboling  on  every  tree  around  us.  My 
companion,  a  stout,  hale,  and  athletic  man,  dressed  in  a 
homespun  hunting  shirt,  bare-legged  and  moccasined, 
carried  a  long  and  heavy  rifle,  which,  as  he  was  loading 
it,  he  said  had  proved  efficient  in  all  his  former  under- 
takings, and  which  he  hoped  would  not  fail  on  this  occa- 
sion, as  he  felt  proud  to  show  me  his  skill.  The  gun  was 
wiped,  the  powder  measured,  the  ball  patched  with  six- 
hundred  thread  linen,  and  the  charge  sent  home  with  a 
hickory  rod.  We  moved  not  a  step  from  the  place,  for 
the  squirrels  were  so  numerous  that  it  was  unnecessary 
to  go  after  them.  Boone  pointed  to  one  oi  these  animals 
which  had  observed  us,  and  was  crouched  on  a  branch 
about  fifty  paces  distant,  and  bade  me  mark  well  the  spot 
where  the  ball  should  hit.  He  raised  his  piece  gradually, 
until  the  bead  (that  being  the  name  given  by  the  Ken- 
tuckians  to  the  sight)  of  the  barrel  was  brought  to  a  line 
with  the  spot  which  he  intended  to  hit,  and  fired. 

"  I  was  astounded  to  find  that  the  ball  had  hit  the 
piece  of  the  bark  immediately  beneath  the  squirrel,  and 
shivered  it  to  splinters;   the  concussion  produced  by 


1 


A  Kentucky  Barbecue, 


(>i 


which  had  killed  the  animal,  and  sent  it  whirling  through 
the  air,  as  if  it  had  been  blown  up. 

"  The  snuffing  of  a  candle  with  a  ball  I  first  had  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  near  the  banks  of  Green  River,  not 
far  from  a  large  pigeon  roost,  to  which  I  had  previously 
made  a  visit.  I  heard  many  reports  of  guns  during  the 
early  part  of  a  dark  night,  and  knowing  them  to  be  those 
of  rifles,  I  went  towards  the  spot  to  ascertain  the  cause. 
On  reaching  the  place,  1  was  welcomed  by  a  dozen  of 
tall,  stout  men,  who  told  me  they  were  exercising  for  the 
purpose  of  enabling  them  to  shoot  under  night  at  the 
reflected  light  from  the  eye  of  a  deer  or  wolf  by  torch- 
light. 

"  At  a  distance  of  fifty  paces  stood  a  lighted  candle, 
barely  distinguishable  in  the  darkness.  One  man  was 
placed  within  a  few  yards  of  it,  to  watch  the  effects  of 
the  shots,  as  well  as  to  light  the  candle,  should  it  chance 
to  go  out,  or  to  repair  it,  should  the  shot  cut  it  across. 
Each  marksman  shot  in  his  turn.  Some  never  hit 
either  the  snuff  or  the  candle.  One  of  them,  who  was 
particularly  expert,  was  very  fortunate,  and  snuffed  the 
candle  three  times  out  of  seven,  whilst  all  the  other  shots 
either  put  out  the  candle,  or  cut  it  immediately  under 
the  light." 

During  his  residence  in  Kentucky,  Audubon  had 
Ireqnent  opportunities  of  joining  in  the  great  American 
festival  of  the  4th  July.  The  particular  occasion  he  de- 
scribes as  a  "  Kentucky  Barbecue,"  and  instances  a  very 
delightful  jubilee  held  on  \\\('  Beargrass  Creek,  at  which 
all  the  settlers,  with  their  wives  and  families,  assisted. 
The  festival  was  held  in  a  forest  glade  by  the  river's 
side :  the  company  arrived  in  their  wagons,  bringing 
provisions  of  every  kind,  such  fruits  as  the  country  af- 
forded, wine,  and  "Old  Monongahela  "  whiskey.  ^Vhen 
the  company  had  assembled,  an  immense  cannon,  built 


4 


Life  of  Audubon, 


k 


-I,! 


of  wood  hooped  with  iron,  and  lighted  by  a  train,  was 
fired,  after  which  orations  were  made  by  various  oracles. 
The  good  things  provided  were  then  largely  enjoyed,  after 
which  dancing  was  indulged  in  with  an  enthusiasm  suit- 
able to  such  an  occasion.  Music  was  provided  by  vari- 
ous amateurs,  and  the  fun  was  only  closed  by  a  ride  home 
in  the  starlight. 

"  A  maple  sugar  camp  "  was  always  a  pleasant  refuge 
to  Audubon  while  wandering  in  the  woods.  He  de- 
scribes the  wild  appearance  these  camps  presented  when 
suddenly  reached  in  the  darkness,  afar  in  the  woodland 
solitudes,  and  only  heralded  by  the  snarling  of  curs  and 
the  bowlings  of  the  sugar-makers. 

Huge  log  fires,  over  which  the  sugar  caldrons  were 
boiled,  gave  the  appearance  of  a  witch  incantation  to  a 
spectacle  in  which  picturesquely-dressed  Indians,  rough 
backwoodsmen,  and  their  strangely-dressed  wives  and 
children  took  part.  Raised  on  a  few  stones  placed 
around  the  fires,  the  sugar  kettles  were  constantly  tended 
by  die  women,  while  the  men  "  bled  "  the  sugar  maple 
trees,  stuck  into  the  wounds  they  made,  cane  pipes,  which 
drained  the  juice,  and  collected  the  maple  sap  into  ves- 
sels made  by  splitting  up  a  "  yellow  poplar  "  into  juice 
troughs.  Ten  gallons  of  sap  are  required  to  make  one 
pound  of  fine-grained  sugar,  which  in  some  instances  is 
equal  to  the  finest  make  of  candy.  Such  sugar  sold  in 
Kentucky,  in  the  time  of  Audubon,  for  as  much  as  a  dozen 
cents  in  scarce  seasons. 

Racoon  kunting  was  a  pastime  much  enjoyed  by  Au- 
dubon, and  he  has  left  plentiful  records  of  his  enjoyment 
of  the  sport.  He  describes  the  hunter's  visit  to  a  home- 
stead, and  the  preparations  for  a  racoon  hunt.  The  cost 
of  ammunition  was  so  considerable  in  the  west,  while  the 
naturalist  roved  about,  that  the  axe  was  reckoned  a  cheap- 
er implement  than  the  ritle  to  secure  the  prey.     From  the 


Racoon-Hunting, 


6s 


naturalist's  journal  the  following  description  is  given,  in 
spired  by  the  writer's  own  peculiar  enthusiasm.  The 
cabin  is  made  comfortable  by  a  huge  pile  of  logs  laid 
across  the  fire ;  the  sweet  potatoes  are  roasted  in  the 
ashes  j  and  when  all  is  ready  the  hunters  begin  their 
work. 

"  The  hunter  has  taken  an  axe  from  the  wood  pile, 
and  returning,  assures  us  that  the  night  is  cle^r,  and  that 
we  shall  have  rare  sport.  He  blows  through  his  rifle,  to 
asceri  ■  that  it  is  clear,  examines  his  flint,  and  thrusts  a 
feather  into  the  touchhole.  To  a  leathern  bag  swung  at 
his  side  is  attached  a  powder-horn  ;  his  sheathed  knife  is 
there  also  ;  below  hangs  a  narrow  strip  of  homespun 
linen.  He  takes  from  his  bag  a  bullet,  pulls  with  his 
teeth  the  wooden  stopper  from  his  powder-horn,  lays  the 
ball  on  one  hai.-l,  and  with  the  other  pours  the  powder 
upon  it,  until  it  is  just  overtopped.  Raising  the  horn  to 
his  mouth,  he  again  closes  it  with  the  stopper,  and  re- 
stores it  to  its  place.  He  introduces  the  powder  into  the 
tube,  springs  the  box  of  his  gun,  greases  the  *  patch  '  over 
some  melted  tallow,  or  damps  it,  then  places  it  on  the 
honeycombed  muzzle  of  his  piece.  The  bullet  is  placed 
on  the  patch  over  the  bore,  and  pressed  with  the  handle 
of  the  knife,  v '  ich  now  trims  the  edges  of  the  linen. 
The  elastic  hickoi  rod,  held  with  both  hands,  smoothly 
pushes  the  ball  to  its  bed  .  once,  twice,  thrice  has  it  re- 
bounded. The  rifle  leaps  as  it  were  into  the  hunter's 
arms,  the  feather  is  drawn  from  the  touchhole,  the  powder 
fills  the  pan,  which  is  closed.  '  Now  I  am  ready,'  cries 
the  woodsman.  A  se^'ant  lights  a  torch,  and  off  we 
march  to  the  woods.  '  Follow  me  close,  for  the  ground 
is  covered  with  logs,  and  the  grape-vines  hang  every- 
where across.  Toby,  hold  up  the  light,  man,  or  we'll 
never  see  die  gullies.  Trail  your  gun,  sir,  as  General 
Clark  used  to  say — not  so,  but  this  way — that's  it.     No\* 


''  ii 


a 


I 


I  I       !^ 


(i(i 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


then,  no  danger  you  see  ;  no  fear  of  snakes,  poor  things  I 
They  are  stiff  enough,  I'll  be  bound.  The  dogs  have 
treed  one.  Toby,  you  old  fool,  why  don't  you  turn  to 
the  right  ? — not  so  much.  There,  go  ahead  and  give  us 
a  light.  What's  that  ?  who's  there  ?  Ah !  you  young 
rascals  !   you've  played   us  a  trick,  have   you  ?    It's  all 

well  enough,  but  now,  just  keep  behind  or  I'll '     In 

fact,  the  boys  with  eyes  good  enough  to  see  in  the  dark, 
although  not  quite  so  well  as  an  owl,  had  cut  directly 
across  to  the  dogs,  which  had  surprised  a  racoon  on  the 
ground,  and  bayed  it,  until  the  lads  knocked  it  on  the 
head.  '  Seek  him,  boys  !  "  cries  the  hunter.  The  dogs, 
putting  their  noses  to  the  ground,  pushed  off  at  a  good 
rate.  '  Master,  they're  making  for  the  creek,'  says  old  To- 
by. On  towards  it  therefore  we  push.  What  woods,  to  be 
sure !  We  are  now  in  a  low  flat  covered  with  beech  trees. 
"The  racoon  was  discovered  swimming  in  a  pool. 
The  glare  of  the  lighted  torch  was  doubtless  distressing 
to  him  ;  Ms  coat  was  ruffled,  and  his  rounded  tail  seemed 
thrice  its  ordinary  size ;  his  eyes  shone  like  emeralds  \ 
with  foarndng  jaws  he  watched  the  dogs,  ready  to  seize 
each  by  the  snout  if  it  came  within  reach.  They  kept 
him  busy  for  some  minutes  ;  the  water  became  thick  with 
mud  \  his  coat  now  hung  dripping,  and  his  draggled  tail 
lay  floating  on  the  surface.  His  guttural  growlings,  in 
place  of  intimidating  his  assailants,  excited  them  the 
more,  ami  they  very  unceremoniously  closed  upon  him. 
One  seized  him  by  the  rump  and  tuggod,  but  was  soon 
forced  to  let  go  ;  another  stuck  to  his  side,  but  soon  tak- 
mg  a  better-directed  bite  of  his  muzzle,  the  coon's  fate 
was  sealed.  He  was  knocked  on  the  head,  and  Toby  re- 
marks, *  That's  another  half  dollar's  worth,'  as  he  handles 
the  thick  fur  of  the  prey.  The  dogs  are  again  found  look- 
ing up  into  a  tree  and  barking  furiously.  The  hunterj 
employ  their  axes,  and  send  the  chips  abouU 


Racoon- Hun  ting. 


67 


"  The  tree  began  to  crack,  and  slowly  leaning  to  one 
side,  the  heavy  mass  swung  rustling  through  the  air,  and 
fell  to  the  earth  with  a  crash.  It  was  not  one  coon  that 
was  surprised  here,  but  three,  one  of  which,  more  crafty 
than  the  rest,  leaped  from  the  top  while  the  tree  was  stag- 
gering. The  other  two  stuck  to  the  hollow  of  a  branch; 
from  which  they  were  soon  driven  by  one  of  the  dogs. 
Tyke  and  Lion  having  nosed  the  cunning  old  one,  scam- 
pered after  him.  He  is  brought  to  bay,  and  a  rifle  bullet 
is  sent  through  his  head.  The  other  two  are  secured 
after  a  desperate  conflict,  and  the  hunters  with  their  bags 
full,  return  to  the  cabin." 

While  resident  in  Kentucky,  Audubon  was  visited  by 
the  eccentric  naturalist,  Rafinesque,  whose  manner  of 
life,  dress,  and  oddities  of  conduct  appear  to  have 
greatly  amused  even  one  so  little  attentive  to  formalities 
as  the  ornithologist.  The  stranger  reached  the  banks  of 
the  Ohio  in  a  boat,  and  carrying  on  his  back  a  bundle  of 
plants  which  resembled  dried  clover.  He  accidentally 
addressed  Audubon,  and  asked  where  the  naturalist 
lived.  Audubon  introduced  himself,  and  was  handed  a 
letter  of  introduction  by  the  stranger,  in  which  the  writer 
begged  to  recommend  "  an  odd  fish,"  which  might  not 
have  been  described  in  published  treatises.  Audubon 
innocently  asked  where  the  odd  fish  was,  which  led  to  a 
pleasant  explanation  and  a  complete  understanding  be- 
tween the  two  naturalists. 

"  I  presented  my  learned  guest  to  my  family,"  writes 
Audubon,  "and  was  ordering  a  servant  to  go  to  the  boat 
for  my  friend's  luggage,  when  he  told  me  he  had  none 
but  what  he  brought  on  his  back.  He  then  loosened  the 
pack  of  weeds  which  had  first  drawn  my  attention.  The 
naturalist  pulled  off  his  shoes,  and  while  engaged  in  draw- 
ing his  stockings  down  to  hide  the  holes  in  his  heels,  he 
explained  that  his  apparel  had  suffered  from  his  journey.' 


w 


68 


Life  of  Audubon, 


♦•   ( 


t 


This  eccentric's  habits  were  neither  tidy  nor  cleanly 
He  would  hardly  perform  needful  ablutions,  and  refused 
a  change  of  clean  clothing,  suggested  as  being  more  com- 
fortable. "His  attire,"  remarks  Audubon,  "struck  me 
as  exceedingly  remarkable.  A  long  loose  coat  of  yellow 
nankeen,  much  the  worse  for  the  many  rubs  it  had  got  hi 
its  time,  and  stained  all  over  with  the  juice  of  plants,  hung 
loosely  about  him  like  a  sack.  A  waistcoat  of  the  same, 
with  enormous  pockets,  and  buttoned  up  to  the  chin, 
reached  below  over  a  pair  of  tight  pantaloons,  the  lower 
part  of  which  were  buttoned  down  to  the  ankles.  His 
beard  was  as  long  as  I  have  known  my  own  to  be  during 
some  of  my  peregrinations,  and  his  lank  black  hair  hung 
loosely  over  his  shoulders.  His  forehead  was  so  broad 
and  prominent  that  any  tyro  in  phrenology  would  instant- 
ly have  pronounced  it  the  residence  of  a  mind  of  strong 
powers.  His  words  impressed  an  assurance  of  rigid 
truth,  and  as  he  directed  the  conversation  to  the  study  of 
the  natural  sciences,  I  listened  to  him  with  great  delight. 
He  requested  to  see  my  drawings,  anxious  to  see  the 
plants  I  had  introduced  besides  the  birds  I  had  drawn. 
Finding  a  strange  plant  among  my  drawings,  he  denied 
its  authenticity ;  but  on  my  assuring  him  that  it  grew  in 
the  neighborhood,  he  insisted  on  going  off  instantly  to 
see  it 

"  When  I  pointed  it  out  the  naturalist  lost  all  com- 
mand over  his  feelings,  and  behaved  like  a  maniac  in  ex- 
pressing his  delight.  He  plucked  the  plants  one  after 
another,  danced,  hugged  me  in  his  arms,  and  exultingly 
told  me  he  had  got,  not  merely  a  new  species,  but  a  new 
genus. 

"He  immediately  took  nJz  of  all  the  needful  par- 
ticulars of  the  plant  in  a  note-book,  which  he  carried 
wrapt  In  a  waterproof  covering.  After  a  day's  pursuit  of 
natural  history  studies,  the  stranger  was  accommodated 


The  Cane-Brake. 


h 


used 


with  a  bed-room.  We  had  all  retired  to  rest ;  every  per 
son  I  imagined  was  in  deep  slumber  save  myself,  when  oi 
a  sudden  I  heard  a  great  uproar  in  the  naturalist's  room. 
I  got  up,  reached  the  place  in  a  few  moments,  and  opened 
the  door  ;  when,  to  my  astonishment,  I  saw  my  guest  run- 
ning naked,  holding  the  handle  of  my  favorite  violin,  the 
body  of  which  he  had  battered  to  pieces  against  the  walls 
in  attempting  to  kill  the  bats  which  had  entered  by  the 
open  window,  probably  attracted  by  the  insects  flying 
around  his  candle.  I  stood  amazed,  but  he  -continued 
jumping  and  running  round  and  round,  until  he  was 
fairly  exhausted,  when  he  begged  me  to  procure  one  of 
the  animals  for  him,  as  he  felt  convinced  they  belonged 
to  a  *  new  species.'  Although  I  was  convinced  of  the 
contrary,  I  took  up  the  bow  of  my  demolished  Cremona, 
and  administering  a  smart  tap  to  each  of  the  bats  as  it 
came  up,  soon  got  specimens  enough.  The  war  ended, 
I  again  bade  him  good-night,  but  could  not  help  observ- 
ing the  state  of  the  room.  It  was  strewed  with  plants, 
which  had  been  previously  arranged  with  care. 

"He  saw  my  regret  for  the  havoc  that  had  been 
created,  but  added  that  he  would  soon  put  his  plants  to 
rights — after  he  had  secured  his  new  specimens  of  bats. 

Rafinesque  had  great  anxiety  to  be  shown  a  cane-brake, 
plenty  of  which  were  to  be  found  in  the  neighborhood. 
The  cane-brake  is  composed  of  a  dense  growth  of  canes, 
measuring  twenty  or  thirty  feet  in  height,  and  packed  so 
closely  that  a  man's  body  requires  to  be  forced  between 
the  shafts  of  the  canes.  An  undergrowth  of  plants  and 
trailing  climbers  further  prevents  progression,  which  has 
to  be  accelerated  by  pushing  the  back  between  the  canes. 
Game  of  all  sorts  frequent  the  cane-brakes,  in  which  trav- 
elling is  rendered  disagreeably  exciting  by  the  presence 
of  bears,  panthers,  snakes,  and  serpents.  The  cane- 
brakes  are  sometimes  set  fire  to,  and  the  water  collected 


70 


Life  of  Auduhon. 


% 


in  the  separate  joints  explodes  like  a  shell.  The  oon« 
stant  fusilade  occasioned  by  such  explosions  in  the  mids\ 
of  a  conflagration  has  occasioned  the  flight  of  parties  not 
conversant  with  the  cause,  and  who  believed  that  the  In- 
dians were  advancing  with  volleys  of  musketry.  I  had 
determined  that  my  companion  should  view  a  cane-brake 
in  all  its  perfection,  :-iid  leading  him  several  miles  in  a 
direct  course,  came  upon  as  fine  a  sample  as  existed  in 
that  part  of  the  country.  We  entered,  and  for  some  time 
proceeded  without  much  difficulty,  as  I  led  the  way,  and 
cut  down  the  canes  which  were  most  likely  to  incommode 
him.  The  difficulties  gradually  increased,  so  that  we 
were  presently  obliged  to  turn  our  backs  and  push  our 
way  through.  After  a  while  we  chanced  to  come  upon 
the  top  of  a  fallen  tree,  which  so  obstructed  our  passage, 
that  we  were  on  the  eve  of  going  round,  instead  of  thrust- 
ing ourselves  through  amongst  the  branches ;  when  from 
its  bed,  in  the  centre  of  the  tangled  mass,  forth  rushed  a 
bear  with  such  force,  that  my  friend  became  terror  struck, 
and  in  his  haste  to  escape  made  a  desperate  attempt  to 
inin,  but  fell  amongst  the  canes  in  such  a  way  that  he  was 
completely  jammed.  I  could  not  refrain  from  laughing 
at  the  ridiculous  exhibition  he  made,  but  my  gaiety  how- 
ever was  not  very  pleasing  to  the  discomfited  naturalist. 
A  thunder-storm  with  a  deluge  of  rain  completed  our  ex 
perience  of  the  cane-brake,  and  my  friend  begged  to  be 
taken  out.  This  could  only  be  accomplished  by  crawl- 
ing in  a  serpentine  manner  out  of  the  jungle,  from  which 
the  eccentric  naturalist  was  delighted  to  escape,  perfectly 
overcome  with  fatigue  and  fear.  The  eccentric  was  more 
than  gratified  with  the  exploit,  and  soon  after  left  my 
abode  without  explanation  or  farewell.  A  letter  of 
thanks,  however,  showed  that  he  had  enjoyed  the  hospi- 
tality, and  was  not  wanting  in  gratitude." 

In  his  Kentucky  rambles  Audubon  had  more  thai 


Daniel  Bojne, 


71 


one  opportunity  of  seeing  and  hunting  with  the  famous 
Colonel  Boone,  the  Kentucky  hunter,  and  hero  of  a  mul- 
titude of  desperate  adventures.  On  a  particular  occasion 
Boone  spent  a  night  under  Audubon's  roof,  and  related 
some  of  his  adventures,  among  others,  tiie  following.  On 
a  hunting  expedition  in  which  Boone  was  engaged,  the 
wanderer  was  afraid  of  Indians,  and  he  consecpiently 
damped  out  his  fire  before  falling  asleep.  He  had  not 
lain  long  before  strong  hands  were  laid  upon  him,  and  he 
was  dragged  off  to  the  Indian  camp.  Avoiding  every 
semblance  of  fear,  Boone  neither  spoke  nor  resisted. 
The  Indians  ransacked  his  pockets,  found  his  whisky 
flask,  and  commenced  to  drink  from  it.  While  so  en- 
gaged a  shot  was  fired,  and  the  male  savages  went  off  in 
pursuit,  while  the  squaws  were  left  to  watch  the  prisoner. 
Rolling  himself  towards  the  fire,  Boone  burnt  the  fasten- 
ings which  bound  him,  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  after  hack- 
ing three  notches  in  an  ash  tree,  afterwards  known  as 
"  Boone's  Ash,"  fled  from  the  neighborhood.  In  years 
after,  an  engineer  in  Kentucky  made  the  ash  a  point  for  a 
survey.  A  lawsuit  arose  out  of  a  boundary  question,  and 
the  only  chance  of  closing  it  was  by  identifying  "  Boone's 
Ash."  The  hunter  was  sent  for,  and  after  some  search 
ing  he  pointed  out  the  tree,  in  which  the  notches  were 
detected  after  the  bark  had  been  peeled  away.  Boone's 
extraordinary  stature  and  colossal  strength  struck  Audu- 
bon as  remarkable  among  a  remarkable  race ;  and  the 
dreaded  foe  of  the  red  man  was  notable  for  an  honesty 
and  courage  that  could  not  be  questioned. 


i  fl 


Hi 


li 


CHAPTER   VI, 

iHi/tbon  leaves  Cincinnati  with  Caftain  Gumming  —  Arrival  at 
Natchez^  Departure  for  N^eiv  Orleans — Arrival  at  Ntnv  )rleam 
—  IVant  of  Success  — Vanderlyn,  the  Painter-^  Audubon  leaves 
New  Orleans  for  Kentucky— Return  to  Ne%o  Orleans '^Review 
of  Work  done  since  leaving  Home. 

NT  the  i2th  of  October,  1820,  Audubon  left  Cin- 
cinnati in  coi.ipany  with  Captain  Cumming,  an 
American  engineer  who  had  been  appointed  to 
make  a  survey  of  the  V  sissippi  river,  and  after  fourueen 
days  of  drifting  down  tiic  Ohio,  the  flat-Hoat  which  con- 
tained the  scientific  "  expedition  "  reached  the  Mississippi 
river.  The  naturalist  had  failed  to  receive  the  money  due 
to  him  at  Cincinnati,  and  vexed  and  discouraged,  he  de- 
termined even  without  means  to  seek  a  new  field  for  em- 
ployment 

From  a  letter  addressed  to  the  Governor  of  Arkansas 
at  this  date,  it  is  evident  that  Audubon  had  determined 
on  a  lengthened  excursion  in  the  pursuit  of  ornithological 
specimens,  including  the  States  of  Mississippi,  Alabama, 
and  Florida,  afterwards  retracing  his  steps  to  New  Or- 
leans up  the  Red  River,  down  the  Arkansas,  and  home- 
ward to  his  wife.  He  had  received  letters  of  recommen- 
dation from  General,  afterwards  President  Harrison,  and 
from  Henry  Clay,  and  good  prospects  seemed  to  dawn. 
He  had  determined  in  any  case  to  complete  one  hundred 
drawings  of  birds  before  returning  to  Cincinnati,  and  he 
fulfilled  this  resolve. 

**  On  a  clear  frosty  morning  in  December,"  writes 
Audubon  in  his  journal,  "  I  arrived  at  Natchez,  and  found 


w  y} 


w 


he 


Natchez, 


73 


(he  levee  lined  with  various  sorts  of  boats  full  of  western 
produce.  The  crowd  was  immense,  and  the  market  ap* 
peared  to  be  a  sort  of  fiiir.  Scra!nl)ling  up  to  the  cliffs 
on  which  the  city  is  built,  I  found  Hocks  of  vultures  fly- 
ing along  the  ground  with  outspread  wings  in  the  pursuit 
of  food.  Large  pines  and  superb  ma_,'nolias  crowned  the 
bluff,  and  their  evergreen  foliage  showed  with  magnificent 
effect.  I  was  delighted  with  the  spectacle  of  white-head- 
ed eagles  pursuing  fishing-hawks,  and  surveyed  the  river 
scenery  sparkling  in  bright  sunlight  with  a  new  pleasure. 
Far  away  across  the  stream  the  shores  were  lost  in  the 
primitive  forests,  and  a  mysterious  unknown  seemed  to 
lie  beyond  me.  I  was  impressed  with  the  pretty  houses 
of  the  upper  town,  built  of  painted  brick  or  wood  ;  and 
to  complete  my  feeling  of  enjoyment,  my  relative,  Mr. 
Berthoud,  gave  me  letters  from  my  wife  and  sons,  re- 
ceived by  the  weekly  mail  which  then  brought  letters  to 
Natchez  from  all  parts  of  the  Union.  The  town  owned 
three  thousand  inhabitants  ;  was  composed  of  un  upper 
town  and  a  lower  town,  the  latter  chiefly  built  up  of 
beached  flat-boats,  converted  into  cabins  by  a  rascally 
and  nondescript  population.  The  planters'  houses  in 
the  V  ^er  town  were  models  of  luxury  and  comfort,  but 
th*-  .  irch  architecture  prevalent  rather  detracted  from 
inc  jeauty  of  the  place.  I  found  the  mocking-bird  in 
abundance,  and  the  pewee  fly-catcher  at  home  m  its  win- 
ter quarters.  The  old  Spanish  fort  was  still  visible  in 
niins,  and  a  rumor  reached  me  that  many  h<  uses  had 
been  buried  in  the  river  by  a  slip  of  the  bank.  At 
Natchez,  I  was  amazed  to  see  a  white-headed  eagle  at- 
tack a  vulture,  knock  it  down,  and  gorge  itself  upon  a 
dead  horse.  M.  Garnier,  who  kept  the  largest  hotel  in 
the  place,  befriended  me  in  many  ways,  and  I  also 
formed  an  acquaintance  with  M.  Charles  Carrd,  the  son 
of  a  French  nobleman  of  the  old  r^i^ime.     From  Carrd  1 


I 


*tl 


74 


Life  of  Audubon, 


had  a  history  of  Natchez,  as  he  had  lived  to  witness  the 
career  of  that  town  under  the  Spaniards,  French,  and 
Americans." 

In  connection  with  his  residence  in  Natchez  he  tells 
a  significant  story.  A  companion  of  his,  voyaging,  hav- 
ing worn  his  shoes  clown,  had  no  money  to  get  them  re 
paired  or  to  purchase  new  ones.  The  naturalist  was 
likewise  without  the  means ;  but  Audubon  called  upon  a 
shoemaker,  explained  that  his  friend  was  in  want  of  shoes, 
had  no  money  to  pay  for  them,  but  that  if  he  chose  he 
should  have  the  portrait  of  himself  and  his  wife  in  return 
for  two  pairs  of  boots.  The  shoemaker  was  satisfied  with 
the  proposal,  and  the  portraits  were  sketched  in  a  couple 
of  hours,  after  which  the  naturalist  and  his  friend  bade 
the  shoemaker  good-bye,  each  being  fitted  with  new  boots. 
After  some  stay  in  Natchez,  Audubon  left  for  New  Or- 
leans with  his  friend  Berthoud,  in  a  keel-boat  belonging 
to  the  latter,  but  which  was  taken  in  tow  of  the  steamer.- 
Not  long  after  leaving,  Audubon  discovered  that  one  of 
his  portfolios,  containing  some  drawings  of  birds  he  prized 
highly,  was  missing.  Full  of  chagrin,  he  could  only 
recollect  that  he  had  brought  it  to  the  wharf  and  had 
placed  it  in  the  hands  of  a  servant,  who  had  evidently 
forgotten  to  put  it  on  board  the  keel-boat.  How  to  re- 
cover it  was  a  serious  consideration.  Letters  were  in- 
stantly despatched  to  M.  Gamier,  M.  Carrd,  and  friends 
of  Berthoud,  to  use  their  utmost  endeavors  to  recover  the 
lost  portfolio.  After  towing  as  far  as  Bayou  Sara,  the 
steamer  threw  off  the  keel-boat,  and  with  the  aid  of  the 
current  and  the  oars  Audubon  continued  his  course  to 
Baton  Rouge,  on  the  way  to  New  Orleans.  liarge  flocks 
of  beautiful  ducks  were  passed  in  various  eddies,  and  the 
naturalist  was  amused  by  groups  of  negroes  catching 
catfish  in  the  river  or  scooping  out  shrimps  with  their 
nets. 


On  the  Mississippi. 


75 


•'  Noaring  New  Orleans,  the  country  became  perfectly 
evel,  and  from  the  embankments  or  luvees  we  could  see 
the  great  river  winding  on  for  miles.  'I'he  planters* 
houses  became  more  visible  against  groves  of  dark  cy- 
presses covered  with  hanging  vine  plants,  and  odorous 
winds  blew  perfumes  of  the  orange  flowers  across  the 
stream  down  which  the  boat  so  lazily  drifted.  Landing 
on  the  banks,  I  made  my  way  to  the  swamps,  and  shot 
several  beautiful  boat-tailed  grakles  and  a  whole  covey  of 
partridges.  Thousands  of  swallows  in  their  winter  home 
flew  about  us,  and  the  cat-birds  mewed  in  answer  to  their 
chatterings.  Doves  echoed  soft  notes  through  the  woods, 
and  the  cardinal  grosbeak  sat  «jn  the  top  branches  of  the 
magnolia,  saluting  us  by  elevating  his  glowing  crest.  On 
the  6th  of  January,  and  when  nearing  New  Orleans,  a 
sharp  frost  was  felt  which  left  some  traces  of  ice,  but  at 
the  same  time  we  had  green  peas,  artichokes,  and  other 
summer  esculents  on  shore  fresh  from  the  garden." 

On  arriving  at  New  Orleans,  Audubon  was  relieved 
to  find  that  the  lost  portfolio  had  been  found,  and  was  lo- 
cated safely  in  the  office  of  the  *  Mississippi  Republican ' 
newspaper.  He  however  found  no  work  to  do,  and  had 
to  live  for  some  days  in  the  boat  he  came  with.  The 
money  he  had,  not  much,  was  stolen  from  him,  and  he 
had  not  even  as  much  as  would  pay  a  lodging  he  took  in 
advance.  AmiJ  all  his  difficulties  he  still  kept  wander 
ing  to  the  woods,  got  additions  made  to  his  specimens, 
and  filled  his  portfolio  with  new  drawings.  Meeting  an 
Italian  painter,  Audubon  explained  his  anxiety  to  have 
work.  The  Italian  introduced  him  to  the  director  of  the 
theatre,  who  offered  the  naturalist  one  hundred  dollars 
per  month  to  draw  for  him,  but  a  fixed  engagement  could 
not  be  entered  upon. 

On  the  13th  of  January  he  called  upon  Jarvis  the 
painter,  who  objected  to  his  manner  of  painting  birds 


u 


76 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


He  suggested  that  he  might  assist  the  artist  in  filling-in 
backgrounds,  and  was  requested  to  come  back. 

"I  went  back  again,"  writes  the  naturalist,  "but 
found  Mr.  Jarvis  had  no  use  for  me  :  lie  appeared  in  fact 
to  fear  ray  rivalry.  Meeting  a  friend,  I  was  taken  to  the 
counting-house  Df  Mr.  Pimar,  where  I  was  asked  what  I 
would  take  the  portraits  of  three  children  for.  I  an- 
swered, One  hundred  dollars  ;  but  various  delays  oc- 
curred which  prevented  me  from  entering  upon  this  en- 
gagement. I  wished  for  the  money  to  send  home  to  my 
wife  and  children. 

''^January  14.  Visited  the  levees,  and  found  them 
crowded  with  promenaders  of  every  hue  and  nation.  The 
day  was  Sunday,  and  amusements  were  much  indulged  in. 
Various  quadroon  balls  held  in  the  evening.  Do  not  see 
any  good-looking  or  handsome  women  ;  all  have  a  citron 
hue.  Time  passed  sadly  in  seeking  ineffectually  for  em- 
ployment. I  was  fortunate  in  making  a  hit  with  the  por- 
trait of  a  well-known  citizen  of  New  Orleans.  I  showed 
it  to  the  public ;  it  made  a  favorable  impression,  and  I 
obtained  several  patrons.  A  few  orders  for  portraits  re- 
lieved my  necessities,  and  continuing  my  work  of  paint- 
ing birds,  the  time  passed  more  pleasantly. 

^^  February  5.  dpent  my  time  running  after  orders  for 
portraits,  and  also  in  vain  en'leavors  to  obtain  a  sight  ol 
Alexander  Wilson's  '  Ornithology,'  but  was  unsuccessful 
in  seeinj  the  book,  which  is  very  high  priced.  Obtained 
some  new  birds  and  made  copies. 

"  March  12.  Of  late  have  been  unable  to  make  many 
entries  in  my  journal.  Near  our  lodgings,  on  the  south 
angle  of  a  neighboring  chimney-top,  a  mocking  bird  reg- 
ularly resorts,  and  pleases  us  with  the  sweetest  notes 
from  the  rising  of  the  moon  until  about  mi'inight,  and 
every  morning  from  about  eight  o'clock  until  eleven, 
when  he  flies  away  to  the  Convent  gardens  to  feed.     I 


m^iwm 


Vanderlyn. 


77 


have  noticed  that  bird,  always  in  the  same  spot  and  same 
position,  and  have  been  particularly  pleased  at  hearing 
him  imitate  the  watchman's  cry  of  *  All's  well ! '  which 
comes  from  the  fort,  about  three  squares  distant ;  and  so 
well  has  he  sometimes  mocked  it  that  I  should  have  been 
deceived  if  he  had  not  repeated  it  too  often,  sometimes 
several  times  in  ten  minutes. 

"  March  21.  Read  in  the  papers  this  morning  that  the 
treaty  between  Spain  r.nd  the  United  States  is  concluded, 
and  that  a  clause  provides  that  an  expedition  is  to  leave 
Natchitoches  next  year  to  survey  the  boundary  line  of  the 
ceded  territory.  I  determined  to  try  for  an  appointment 
as  draughtsman  and  naturalist.  I  wrote  to  President 
Monroe,  and  was  quite  pleased  at  the  prospect  before  me. 
I  walked  out  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  on  which  I 
formed  the  project,  and  saw  nothing  but  hundreds  of  new 
birds  in  imagination  within  range  of  my  gun.  I  have 
been  struck  with  the  paucity  of  birds  in  the  neighborhood 
of  New  Orleans  during  a  season  I  had  expected  to  meet 
with  them.  Many  species  of  warblers,  thrushes,  &c., 
which  were  numerous  during  the  winter,  have  migrated 
eastward  towards  Florida,  leaving  swallows  and  a  few 
water-birds  almost  the  sole  representatives  of  the  feathered 
race. 

"March  31.  My  time  has  been  engrossed  thinking 
over  and  making  plans  about  the  Pacific  expedition.  I 
called  on  Mr.  Vanderlyn,  the  historical  painter,  with  my 
portfolio,  to  show  him  some  of  my  drawings  and  ask  him 
for  a  recommendation.  He  said  thi  y  were  handsomely 
done,  and  was  pleased  with  the  coloring  amd  positions  of 
the  birds  drawn.  He  was  however  a  rude-mannered 
man,  treated  me  as  a  mendicant,  and  ordered  me  to  lay 
down  my  portfolio  in  the  lobby.  I  felt  inclined  to  walk 
off  without  farther  comment,  but  the  thought  of  further- 
ing my  prospects  in  connection  with  the  expedition  in 


m 


78 


Life  of  Audubon, 


duced  me  to  submit.  In  half  an  hour  he  returned  with 
an  officer,  and  with  an  air  more  becoming  asked  me  into 
his  private  room.  Yet  I  could  see  in  his  expression  that 
feeling  of  selfish  confidence  which  always  impairs  in  some 
degiee  the  worth  of  the  greatest  man  who  has  it  The 
perspiration  ran  down  my  face  as  I  showed  him  my 
drawings  and  laid  them  on  the  floor.  An  officer  who  was 
with  the  artist,  looking  at  the  drawings,  said  with  an  oath 
that  they  were  handsome.  Vanderlyn  made  a  like  re- 
marl:,  and  I  felt  comforted.  Although  he  failed  in  paint 
ing  women  himself,  he  spoke  disparagingly  of  my  own 
portraits ;  said  they  were  too  hard  and  too  strongly 
drawn.  He  sat  down  and  wrote  his  note  while  I  was 
thinking  of  my  journey  to  the  Pacific,  and  I  cared  not  a 
picayune  for  his  objections  to  my  portraits  so  that  my 
prospects  of  going  with  the  expedition  were  furthered. 
Vanderlyn  gave  me  a  very  complimentary  note,  in  which 
he  said  that  he  never  had  seen  anything  superior  to  my 
drawings  in  any  country,  and  for  which  kindness  I  was 
very  thankful.  His  friend,  the  officer,  followed  me  to  the 
door,  asked  the  price  of  my  portraits,  and  very  courte- 
ously asked  me  to  paint  his  likeness." 

Audubon's  fortunes  in  New  Orleans  varied  exceed- 
ingly. From  the  sorest  penury  and  deepest  distress  he 
was  suddenly  raised  by  the  happy  spirit  he  possessed  and 
the  untiring  energy  of  his  character.  One  day  he  was 
going  about  seeking  for  a  patron  to  obtain  a  few  dollars 
by  drawing  a  portrait ;  the  next  he  was  dining  with  Gov- 
ernor Robertson  of  Ix)uisiana,  v.ho  gave  him  a  letter  of 
recommendation  to  President  Monroe  in  connection  with 
the  expedition  to  Mexico.  He  had  determined  to  go  to 
Shipping  Port,  Kentucky,  but  his  departure  was  hindered 
by  an  engagement  fiom  a  few  pupils.  He  writes  in  his 
diary  : — 

"  ^une  1 6.  Left  New  Orleans  in  the  steamer  Colum- 


ii# 


Mrs.  Perrie. 


19 


bus,  Captain  John  D'lTart,  for  Shipping  Port,  Kentucky. 
Been  greatly  oppressed  while  at  ^^ork  lately,  and  greatly 
tormented  by  mosquitoes,  which  prevented  my  sleeping 
at  night.  Much  disappointed  by  one  patron  at  New  Or 
leans,  who  affected  great  interest  in  me,  but  would  noi 
pay  one  hundred  dollars  he  owed." 

It  happened  however  that  Audubon  was  not  to  re- 
turn to  his  family  as  soon  as  he  expected.  The  voyagr 
to  Shipping  Port  was  cut  short  by  the  acceptance  of  ;". 
situation  in  the  flimily  of  Mrs.  Perrie,  who  owned  a  plar 
tation  at  Bayou  Sara,  in  Louisiana.  The  duties  acceptec 
by  Audubon  were  apparently  simple  enough.  lie  was  to 
teach  Mrs.  Perrie's  daughter  drawing  during  the  summer 
months,  at  sixty  dollars  per  month.  His  lessons  would 
absorb  one  half  of  the  day,  and  with  a  young  friend. 
Mason,  he  was  to  have  the  rest  of  his  time  free  for  hunt- 
ing. Board  and  lodging  were  provided  for  the  two  friends, 
and  Mrs.  Perrie's  aim  appears  to  have  been  to  provide 
an  opportunity  for  Audubon  to  carry  on  his  pursuits  un- 
der the  guise  of  an  employment  which  would  be  con- 
genial, and  not  interfere  with  his  work. 

"  We  arrived  at  the  landing  at  the  mouth  of  the  bayou 
on  a  hot  sultry  day,  bid  adieu  to  our  fellow-passengers, 
climbed  the  hill  at  St.  Francisville,  and  rested  a  few  min- 
utes at  the  house  of  Mr.  Swift.  Dinner  was  nearly  ready, 
and  we  were  invited  to  partake,  but  I  had  no  heart  for  it. 
I  wished  myself  on  board  the  Columbus  ;  I  wished  for 
my  beloved  Lucy  and  my  dear  boys.  I  filt  that  I  should 
be  awkward  at  the  table  ;  and  a  good  opportunity  having 
offered  me  to  go  to  Mi-.  Perrie's,  we  walked  slowly  on, 
guided  by  some  of  the  servants,  who  had  been  sent,  when 
the  family  heard  of  our  coming,  to  bring  our  luggage, 
which  they  found  light. 

"  The  aspect  of  the  country  was  entirely  new  to  me, 
and  distracted  my  mind  from  those  objects  which  are  tlu 


'1 


'!! 


IN 


m 


,^  ) 


i 


<  :,l 


80 


Life  of  Audubon, 


occupation  of  my  life.  Tlie  rich  magnolias  covered  with 
fragrant  blossoms,  the  holly,  the  beech,  the  tall  yellow 
poplar,  the  hilly  ground,  and  even  the  red  clay,  all  excited 
my  admiration.  Such  an  entire  change  in  the  face  of 
nature  in  so  short  a  time  seems  almost  supernatural , 
and  surrounded  once  more  by  numberless  warblers  and 
thrushes,  I  enjoyed  the  scene.  The  five  miles  we  walked 
appeared  short,  and  we  arrived  and  met  Mr.  Perrio  at  his 
house.  Anxious  to  know  him,  I  exr  .lined  his  features 
by  Lavater's  directions.     We  were  rec  '  /ed  kindly. 

^^  August  II.  We  were  awakened  Is  night  by  a  serv- 
ant requesting  me  to  accompany  Mrs.  Perrie  to  the  house 
of  a  dying  neighbor  about  a  mile  distant.  We  went,  but 
arrived  too  late,  for  the  man  wa<^  dead,  and  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  keeping  his  body  company  the  remainder  of 
the  night.  On  such  occasions  time  flies  very  slowly,  so 
much  so,  that  it  looked  as  if  it  stood  still,  like  hawk 

that  poises  in  the  air  over  his  prey.  The  poor  man  had 
drunk  himself  into  an  everlasting  sleep.  I  made  a  good 
sketch  of  his  head,  and  left  the  house,  while  the  ladies 
were  engaged  in  preparing  the  funeral  dinner. 

'•'■  Aiigust  12.  Left  this  morning  to  visit  a  beautiful 
lake,  six  miles  distant,  where  we  are  told  there  are  many 
beautiful  birds.  The  path  led  through  a  grove  of  rich 
magnolia  woods.  On  the  way  we  saw  a  rich-colored 
spider  at  work  rolling  up  a  horsefly  he  had  caught  in  his 
web.  He  spirted  a  stream  of  fluid  from  his  mouth,  at 
the  same  time  rolling  the  fly  in  it,  until  he  looked  like 
the  cocoon  of  a  silkworm  ;  and  having  finished  his  work, 
returned  to  the  centre  of  his  nest.  This  is  no  doubt  the 
way  he  puts  up  his  food  when  he  is  not  hungry,  and  pro- 
vides for  the  future. 

'^August  25.  Finished  drawing  a  vp"^  fine  sp«.Jmen 
of  a  rattlesnake,  which  measured  five  feet  and  sci  en  indieii^ 
weighed  six  and  a  quarter  pound:?,  ^nd  had  ten  KitJes 


A  Rattlesnake 


8t 


Anxious  to  give  it  a  position  most  mteresting  to  a  natu 
ralist,  I  put  it  in  t'  it  which  the  reptile  commonly  takes 
when  on  the  poini  of  striking  madly  with  its  fangs.  I 
had  examined  many  before,  and  especially  the  position 
of  the  fangs  along  the  superior  jawbones,  but  had  nevrt 
seen  one  showing  the  whole  exposed  at  the  same  time , 
and  having  before  this  supposed  tliat  it  was  probable 
that  those  lying  enclosed  below  the  upper  one,  in  most 
specimens,  were  to  replace  the  upper  one,  which  I  thought 
might  drop  periodically  as  the  animal  cl;anged  its  skin 
p:-'d  rattles.  However,  on  dissection  of  these  from  the 
ligament  by  which  they  were  attached  to  the  jawbones,  I 
found  them  strongly  and  I  think  permanently  fixed  there 
as  follows.  Two  superior,  or  n«xt  to  the  upper  lip  (I 
speak  of  one  side  of  the  jaws  only),  were  well  connected 
at  their  bases  and  running  parallel  their  whole  length, 
with  apertures  on  the  upper  and  lower  sides  of  their  bases 
to  receive  the  poison  connectedly,  and  the  discharging 
one  a  short  distance  from  the  sharp  point  on  the  inner 
part  of  the  fangs.  The  iiext  two  fangs,  about  a  quarter 
of  an  inch  below,  connected  r\nd  received  in  the  same 
manner  but  with  only  one  base  aperture  on  the  lower  side 
of  each,  and  the  one  at  the  point  which  issues  the  poison 
to  tV  wound.  The  fifth,  rather  smaller,  is  also  about  a 
quarter  of  an  inch  below.  The  scales  of  the  belly,  to  the 
under  part  of  the  mouth,  numbe'Cfl  one  hundred  and 
seventy,  and  twenty-two  from  the  /ent  to  the  tail.  The 
heat  of  the  weather  was  so  great  that  I  could  devote  only 
sixteen  hours  to  the  drawing. 

"  October  .20.  Left  Bayou  Sara  in  the  Ramapo,  with 
a  medley  of  passengers,  and  arrived  safely  in  New 
Orleans.  My  long,  flowing  hair,  and  loose  yellow  nan- 
keen dress,  and  the  unfortunate  cut  of  my  features, 
attracted  much  attentioii,  and  made  me  desire  to  be 
dressed  like  other  people  as  soon  as  possible.  M) 
0 


ill 


ill 


'ii; 


82 


i>  A 


Life  of  Audubon, 


y 


friends  the  Pamars  received  me  kindly  and  raised  my 
spirits ;  they  looked  on  me  as  a  son  returned  from  a  long 
and  dangerous  voyage,  and  children  and  servants  as  well 
as  the  parents  were  all  glad  to  see  me. 

"  Oct'ber  25.  Rented  a  house  in  Dauphine  street  at 
seventeen  dollars  per  month,  and  determined  to  bring 
my  family  to  New  Orleans.  Since  I  left  Cincinnati, 
October  12,  1820,  I  have  finished  sixty-two  drawings 
of  birds  and  plants,  three  quadrupeds,  two  snakes,  fifty 
portraits  of  all  sorts,  and  have  subsisted  by  my  humble 
talents,  not  having  had  a  dollar  when  I  started.  I  sent 
a  draft  to  my  wife,  and  began  life  in  New  Orleans  with 
forty  two  dollars,  health,  and  much  anxiety  to  pursue  my 
plan  of  collecting  all  the  birds  of  America," 

Audubon  speaks  with  boyish  gayety  of  the  comfort 
which  a  new  suit  of  clothes  gave  him.  He  called  on 
Mrs.  Clay  with  his  drawings,  Lut  got  no  work — no  pupils. 
He  determined  to  make  a  public  exhibition  of  his  ornitho- 
logical drawings. 

Under  date  November  lo,  he  remarks  :  "Mr.  Baste- 
rop  called  on  me,  and  wished  me  to  join  him  in  painting 
a  panorama  of  the  city ;  but  my  birds,  my  beloved  birds 
of  America,  occupy  all  my  time,  and  nearly  all  my 
thoughts,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  see  any  other  perspective 
than  the  last  specimen  of  these  drawings." 

Audubon  relates  many  instances  of  squatter  life  on 
the  great  American  rivers.  The  features  of  this  peculiar 
life  struck  him  with  a  picturesque  force  that  makes  his 
descriptions  of  the  constant  emigrations  from  the  East, 
and  the  settlement  of  the  wanderers  in  the  West,  very 
interesting  indeed.  In  a  detailed  account  he  describes 
how  the  settlers  in  Virginia  became  impoverished  through 
the  reckless  system  of  husbandry  pursued,  and  how,  after 
suffering  penury,  they  determined  to  emigrate  to  more 
fertile  lands.  He  thus  graphically  narrates  the  patri 
archal  wanderings  of  the  wearied  wayfarers 


ifF" 


Early  Settlers, 


83 


5 


"  I  think  1  see  them  harnessing  their  horses,  and 
attaching  them  to  their  wagons,  which  are  already  fitted 
with  bedding,  provisions,  and  the  younger  children  j 
while  on  their  outside  are  fastened  spinning-wheels  and 
looms,  a  bucket  filled  with  tar  and  tallow  swings  betwixt 
the  hind  wheels.  Several  axes  arc  secured  to  the  bolster 
and  the  feeding-trough  of  the  horses  contains  pots,  ket- 
tles, and  pans.  The  servant  now  becomes  a  driver,  riding 
the  near  saddled  horse,  the  wife  is  mounted  on  another, 
the  worthy  husband  shoulders  his  gun,  and  his  sons,  clad 
in  plain,  substantial  homespun,  drive  the  cattle  ahead,  and 
lead  the  procession,  followed  by  the  hounds  and  other 
dogs.  Their  day's  journey  is  short  and  not  agreeable. 
The  cattle,  stubborn  or  wild,  frequently  leave  the  road  for 
the  woods,  giving  the  travellers  much  trouble ;  the  harness 
of  the  horses  here  and  there  gives  way,  and  immediate 
repair  is  needed.  A  basket  which  has  accidentally  drop- 
ped must  be  gone  after,  for  nothing  that  they  have  can 
be  spared.  The  roads  are  bad,  and  now  and  then  all 
hands  are  called  to  push  on  the  wagon,  or  prevent  it  from 
upsetting.  Yet  by  sunset  they  have  proceeded  perhaps 
twenty  mil-os.  Fatigued,  all  assemble  round  the  fire, 
which  has  been  lighted  ;  supper  is  prepared,  and  a  camp 
being  run  up,  there  they  pass  the  night.  Days  and  weeks 
pass  before  they  gain  the  end  of  their  journey.  They 
have  crossed  both  the  Carolinas,  Georgia,  and  Alabam;i. 
They  have  been  travelling  from  the  beginning  of  May  to 
that  of  September,  and  with  heavy  hearts  they  traverse 
the  neighborh(jod  of  the  Mississippi.  But  now  arrived 
on  the  banks  (»r  the  broad  stream,  they  gaze  in  amaze- 
ment on  the  dark  deep  woods  around  them.  Boats  of 
various  kinds  they  see  gliding  downwards  with  the  cur- 
rent, while  others  slowly  ascend  against  it.  A  few  inqui- 
ries are  made  at  the  nearest  dwelling,  and  assisted  by 
the  inhabitants  with  their  boats  and  canoes,  they  at  once 


Iilfl 


n 


f  i;'J 


I4  Life  of  Audubon, 

cross  the  river,  and  select  their  place  of  habilation.  The 
exhalations  arising  from  the  swamps  and  moiasses  around 
them  have  a  powerful  effect  on  these  new  se  .tiers,  but  all 
are  intent  on  preparing  for  the  winter.  A  small  patch  of 
ground  is  cleared  by  the  axe  and  fire,  a  temporary  cabin 
is  erected ;  to  each  of  the  cattle  is  attached  a  bell  before 
it  is  let  loose  into  the  neighboring  canebrake,  and  the 
horses  remain  about  the  house,  where  they  find  sufficient 
food  at  that  season.  The  first  trading  bcut  that  stops  at 
their  landing  enables  them  to  provide  themselves  with 
some  flour,  fish-hooks,  and  ammunition,  as  well  as  other 
commodities.  The  looms  are  mounted,  the  spinning- 
wheels  soon  furnish  some  yarn,  and  in  a  few  weeks  the 
family  throw  off  their  ragged  clothes,  and  array  them- 
selves in  suits  adapted  to  the  climate. 

"  The  father  and  sons  meanwhile  have  sown  turnips 
and  other  vegetables ;  and  from  some  Kentucky  flat-boat 
a  supply  of  live  poultry  has  been  purchased.  October 
tinges  the  leaves  of  the  forest ;  the  morning  dews  are 
heavy ;  the  days  hot  and  the  nights  chill,  and  the  unac- 
climatised  family  in  a  few  days  are  attacked  with  ague. 
The  lingering  disease  almost  prostrates  their  whole  facul- 
ties. Fortunately  the  unhealthy  season  soon  passes  over, 
and  the  hoar-frosts  make  their  appearance.  Gradually 
each  individual  recovers  strength.  The  largest  ash  trees 
are  felled,  their  trunks  are  cut,  split,  and  corded  in  front 
of  the  building ;  a  large  fire  is  lighted  at  night  on  the 
edge  of  the  water,  and  soon  a  steamer  calls  to  purchase 
the  wood,  and  thus  add  to  their  comforts  during  the 
winter.  This  first  fruit  of  their  industry  imparts  new 
courage  to  them  ;  their  exertions  multiply,  and  when 
spring  returns  the  place  has  a  cheerful  look.  Venison, 
bear's  flesh,  and  turkeys,  ducks  and  geese,  with  now  and 
then  some  fish,  have  served  to  keep  up  their  strength, 
%nd  now  their  enlarged  fidd  b  planted  with  com,  pota 


^he  Opossum. 


8s 


toes,  and  pumpkins.  Their  stock  of  cattle,  too,  has 
augmented :  the  steamer  which  now  stops  there,  as  if  by 
preference,  buys  a  calf  or  pig,  together  with  their  wood. 
Their  store  of  provisions  is  renewed,  and  brighter  rays 
of  hope  enliven  their  spirits 

"  The  sons  discover  a  swamp  covered  with  excellenl 
timber,  and  as  they  have  seen  many  great  rafts  of  saw- 
logs,  bound  for  the  saw-mi'ls  of  New  Orleans,  floating 
past  their  dwelling,  they  resolve  to  try  the  success  of  a 
little  enterj)rise.  A  few  cross-saws  are  purchased,  and 
some  broad-wheeled  'carry-logs'  are  made  by  them- 
selves. Log  after  log  is  hauled  to  the  bank  of  the  river, 
and  in  a  short  time  their  first  raft  is  made  on  the  shore, 
and  loaded  with  cordwood.  When  the  next  freshet  sets 
it  afloat  it  is  secured  by  long  grape  vines  or  cables,  until, 
the  proper  time  being  arrived,  the  husband  and  sons 
embark  on  it  and  float  down  the  mighty  stream.  After 
encountering  many  difficulties,  they  arrive  in  safety  at 
New  Orleans,  where  they  dispose  of  their  stock,  the 
money  obtained  for  which  may  be  said  to  be  all  profit  \ 
supply  themselves  with  such  articles  as  may  add  to  their 
convenience  or  comfort,  and  with  light  hearts  procure  a 
passage  on  the  upper  deck  of  a  steamer  at  a  veiy  cheap 
rate,  on  account  of  the  benefit  of  their  labors  in  taking  in 
wood  or  otherwise.  Every  successive  year  has  increased 
their  savings.  They  now  possess  a  large  stock  of  horses, 
cows,  and  hogs,  with  abundance  of  provisions,  and  domes- 
tic comforts  of  every  kind.  The  daughters  have  been 
married  to  the  sons  of  neighboring  squatters,  and  have 
gained  sisters  to  themselves  by  tlie  marriage  of  their 
brothers."       ■ 

He  introduces,  among  other  episodes  of  natural 
history,  an  account  of  the  habits  jf  the  opossum — "  the 
dissimulator."  The  walk  <  f  this  animal  he  describes  as 
an  amble  like  that  of  a  young  foal  or  a  Newfoundland 


86 


ii    'i 


Life  of  Audubon, 


dog.  Its  movements  are  rather  slow — it  travels  across 
the  snow-covered  ground  about  as  fast  as  a  man  could 
walk — snuffing  at  every  step  for  trarcs  of  the  prey  it 
searches  after.  P^ntering  some  cranny,  it  pulls  out  a 
squirrel  it  has  killed,  and  climbing  a  tree,  secretes  itself 
among  the  thick  branches  to  eat  its  repast.  Exhausted 
by  hunger  in  the  early  spring,  the  opossum  will  eat  young 
frogs,  and  the  green  growth  of  nettles  and  other  succulent 
plants.  Unscared  by  the  watchful  crows  the  farmer  has 
killed,  the  pest  creeps  into  the  hen-houst%  eats  the  chickens, 
robs  the  hen  of  the  eggs  she  is  sitting  upon,  and  commits 
its  devastations  with  address  and  adroitness.  Prowling 
about  after  sunset,  it  avoids  all  sorts  of  precautions,  and 
defies  the  farmer's  guns  and  curs  alike.  In  the  woods  it 
eats  the  eggs  of  the  wild  turkey,  and  ravenously  devours 
the  grapes  of  the  grapevine.  When  attacked,  it  rolls  itself 
up  like  a  ball,  submits  to  be  kicked  and  maltreated  with- 
out moving,  feigns  death,  lies  on  the  ground  with  shut 
eyes,  and  cheats  its  assailants  into  the  belief  that  it  has 
been  destroyed.  When  its  assailant  has  gone,  life  seem- 
ingly suddenly  returns,  and  regaining  its  feet,  it  scampers 
off  to  the  wilds. 

"  Once  while  descending  the  Mississippi  in  a  sluggish 
flat-bottomed  boat,  expressly  for  the  purpose  of  studying 
those  objects  of  nature  more  nearly  connected  with  my 
favorite  pursuits,  I  chanced  to  meet  with  two  well-grown 
opossums,  and  brought  them  alive  to  the  *  ark.'  The 
poor  things  were  placed  on  the  roof  or  deck,  and  were 
immediately  assailed  by  the  crew,  when,  following  their 
natural  instinct,  they  lay  as  if  quite  dead.  An  experiment 
was  suggested,  and  both  were  thrown  overboard.  On 
striking  the  water,  and  for  a  few  moments  after,  neither 
evinced  the  least  disposition  to  move ;  but  finding  their 
situation  desperate,  they  began  to  swim  towards  oui 
uncouth  rudder,  which  was  formed  of  a  long  slender  tree. 


i 


opossums. 


87 


extending  from  the  middle  of  the  boat  thirty  feet  beyond 
the  stern.  They  both  got  upon  it,  were  taken  up,  and 
afterwards  let  loose  in  their  native  woods. 

"  In  the  year  1829,  I  was  in  a' portion  of  Lowet  Loui- 
siana, where  the  opossum  abounds  at  all  seasons,  and 
having  been  asked  by  the  President  and  Secret  f-y  of  the 
Zoological  Gardens  and  Society  of  London  to  forward 
live  animals  of  this  species  to  them,  I  offered  a  price  & 
little  above  the  common,  and  soon  found  myself  plenti- 
fully supplied,  twenty-five  having  been  brought  to  me. 
I  found  them  extremely  voracious,  and  not  less  cowardly. 
They  wen-  put  into  a  large  box,  with  a  great  quantity  of 
food,  and  conveyed  to  a  steamer  bound  to  New  Orleans. 
Two  days  afterwards  I  went  to  the  city  to  see  about 
sending  them  off  to  Europe ;  but  to  my  surprise  I  found 
that  the  old  males  had  destroyed  the  younger  ones,  and 
eaten  off  their  heads,  and  that  only  sixteen  remained 
alive.  A  separate  box  was  purchased  for  each,  and  the 
cannibals  were  safely  forwarded  to  their  destination." 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14S80 

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I 

V  ■■{  ■ 

CHAPTER  VII. 


Wife  and  Sons  arrive  at  New  Orleans  —  Difficulties  of  Obtaining 
a  Livelihood — Recollections  of  an  Eccentric — A  Bird-fanciet 
and  an  Artist — Rifle  Practice  in  a  Studio — Audubon's  Ar- 
rival at  Natchez  —  Attack  of  Fever — Raffle  of  a  Drawings 
and  Results — Audubon  studies  Oil  Painting —  The  Naiuralisi 
lets  loose  his  Pei  Birds  —  Visit  to  Bayou  Sara  —  A  Den  oj 
Gamblers — Leaves  for  Louisville  with  his  son  Victor — Wan- 
derings  through  the  Wilds  —  Residence  at  Louisville  —  An  Ad- 
venture in  the  Woods  —  Floods  of  the  Mississippi —  The  Waste 
of  Waters —  The  Flooded  Forest — Slaughter  of  Game. 


i: 


ECEMBER  8.  My  wife  and  family  arrived  to- 
day by  steamer.  We  dined  "with  our  friend  Mr. 
Pamar,  and  met  my  old  friend  Mr.  Rosier  in  the 
evening.  We  reached  our  lodging,  and  all  felt  happy  and 
comforted  at  the  reunion,  after  fourteen  months  of  separa- 
tion." 

For  the  first  two  months  of  1822,  the  records  of  Au- 
dubon's life  are  sparse  and  imperfect,  on  account  of  his 
inability  to  purchase  a  book  to  write  his  journal  in !  The 
one  at  last  obtained  was  made  of  thin,  poor  paper,  and 
the  records  entered  are  rather  in  keeping  with  his  finan- 
cial difficulties.  It  took  all  his  means  at  this  time  to 
supply  his  family  with  tlie  necessaries  of  life,  and  in  order 
to  obtain  money  to  educate  the  children,  his  wife  under- 
took the  duties  of  a  situation,  in  which  she  had  charge  of 
and  educated  the  offspring  of  a  Mr.  Brand. 

"  March  7.  Spring  is  advancing,  with  many  pleasant 
associations,  but  my  bodily  health  suffers  from  depres- 
3ion.     I  have  resolved  to  leave  for  Natchez,  but  grieve  to 


1:;  I 


wr^ 


An  Eccentric 


89 


Jeave  my  family.     My  money  is  scarce,  and  I  find  great 
difficulty  in  collecting  what  is  owing  to  me. 

^^  March  16.  Paid  all  my  bills  in  New  Orleans,  and 
having  put  my  baggage  on  board  of  the  steamer  Eclat, 
obtained  a  passage  to  Natchez  in  the  steamer,  in  return 
for  a  crayon  portrait  of  the  captain  and  his  wife. 

"  March  19.  Opened  a  chest  with  two  hundred  of  my 
bird  portraits  in  it,  and  found  them  sorely  damaged  by 
the  breaking  of  a  bottle  containing  a  quantity  of  gunpow- 
der.    I  had  several  portraits  to  drav/  during  the  passage. 

"  March  24.  One  of  the  passengers  accused  Alexan- 
der Wilson,  the  ornithologist,  of  intemperate  habits,  but  I 
had  the  satisfaction  of  defending  his  character  from  as- 
persion. I  had  hope  of  success  in  Natchez,  and  soon  ex- 
pected to  be  followed  by  my  wife  and  family.  My  wife 
in  the  meantime  remained  at  New  Orleans,  in  the  family 
of  Mr.  Brand." 

In  closing  his  recollections  of  New  Orleans,  Audubon 
relates  an  amusing  histon'  of  a  painter,  whose  eccentrici- 
ties fascinated  the  naturalist.  The  genius  was  first  ob- 
served by  the  naturalist  on  the  Levee  at  New  Orleans, 
and  his  odd  costume  and  appearance  are  thus  de- 
scribed : 

"  His  head  was  covered  by  a  straw  hat,  the  brim  of 
which  might  cope  with  those  worn  by  the  fair  sex  in 
1830 ;  his  neck  was  exposed  to  the  weather ;  the  broad 
frill  of  a  shirt,  then  fasiiionable,  flopped  about  his  breast, 
whilst  an  extraordinary  collar,  carefully  arranged,  fell  over 
the  top  of  his  coat.  The  latter  was  of  a  light-green  color, 
harmonizing  well  with  a  pair  of  flowing  yx^Uow  nankeen 
trousers  and  a  pink  waistcoat,  from  the  bosom  of  which, 
amidst  a  large  bunch  of  the  splendid  flowers  of  the  mag- 
nolia, protruded  part  of  a  young  alligator,  which  seemed 
mo''e  anxious  to  glide  through  the  muddy  waters  of  a 
swamp  than  to  spend  its  life  swinging  to  and  fro  amongst 


% 


iLi 


i 


^11 


I 


w 


f:    1 


f'h 


90 


Life  of  Audubon, 


folds  of  the  finest  lawn.  The  gentleman  held  in  one 
hand  a  cage  full  of  richly-plumed  nonpareils,  whilst  in  the 
other  he  sported  a  silk  umbrella,  on  which  I  could  plain- 
ly read  *  Stolen  from  I,'  these  words  being  painted  in 
large  white  characters.  He  walked  as  if  conscious  of 
his  own  importance ;  that  is,  with  a  good  deal  of  pom- 
posity, singing,  *  My  love  is  but  a  lassie  yet ;'  and  that 
with  such  thorough  imitation  of  the  Scotch  emphasis,  that 
had  not  his  physiognomy  suggested  another  parentage,  I 
should  have  believed  him  to  be  a  genuine  Scot.  A  nar- 
rower acquaintance  proved  him  to  be  a  Yankee  j  and 
anxious  to  make  his  acquaintance,  I  desired  to  see  his 
birds.  He  retorted,  '  What  the  devil  did  I  know  about 
birds  ? '  I  explained  to  him  that  I  was  a  naturalist, 
whereupon  he  requested  me  to  examine  his  birds.  I  did 
so  With  some  interest,  and  was  preparing  to  leave,  when 
he  bade  me  come  to  his  lodgings  and  see  the  remainder 
of  his  collection.  This  I  willingly  did,  and  was  struck 
with  amazement  at  the  appearance  of  his  studio.  Several 
cages  were  hung  about  the  walls,  containing  specimens  of 
birds,  all  of  which  I  examined  at  my  leisure.  On  a  large 
easel  before  me  stood  an  unfinished  portrait,  other  pic- 
tures hung  about,  and  in  the  room  were  two  young  pu- 
pils; and  at  a  glance  I  discovered  that  the  eccentric 
stranger  was,  like  myself,  a  naturalist  and  an  artist.  The 
artist,  as  modest  as  he  was  odd,  showed  me  how  he  laid 
on  the  paint  on  his  pictures,  asked  after  my  own  pursuits, 
and  showed  a  friendly  spirit  which  enchanted  me.  With 
a  ramrod  for  a  rest,  he  prosecuted  his  work  vigorously, 
and  afterwards  asked  me  to  examine  a  percussion  lock 
on  his  gun,  a  novelty  to  me  at  the  time.  He  snapped 
some  caps,  and  on  my  remarking  that  he  would  frighten 
his  birds,  he  exclaimed,  *  Devil  take  the  birds,  there  are 
moiC  of  them  in  the  market.'  He  then  loaded  his  gun, 
and  wishing  to  show  me  that  he  was  a  marksman,  fiied 


;f 


Mr.  ^agiass. 


91 


at  one  of  the  pins  on  his  easel.  This  he  smashed  to 
pieces,  and  afterward  put  a  rifle  bullet  exactly  through 
the  hole  into  which  the  pin  fitted." 

The  voyage  up  the  Mississippi  to  Natchez  appears  to 
have  been  without  any  circumstance  of  importance. 
Under  date  March  24th,  1822,  the  naturalist  records  the 
fact  that  he  had  arrived  at  Natchez.  "  I  went  ashore  to 
see  after  work — called  on  Mr.  Quigley,  who  received  me 
cordially.  I  had  prospects  of  an  engagement  with  Mr. 
Quaglass,  a  Portuguese  gentleman,  who  wished  me  to 
give  lessons  in  drawing  and  music  and  French  to  his 
daughter,  thirteen  years  of  age.  I  was  received  at  his 
house,  and  received  a  welcome  from  his  wife.  Mr. 
Quaglass  arrived  at  home  in  the  evening,  and  his  appear- 
ance was  by  no  means  prepossessing.  His  small  gray 
eyes  and  corrugated  brows  did  not  afford  me  an  oppor- 
tunity of  passing  a  favorable  judgment.  My  time  has 
been  mostly  engaged  in  hunting,  drawing,  and  attending 
to  my  charge.  I  constantly  regret  the  separation  from 
my  family." 

Ere  long  he  got  an  appointment  to  teach  drawing  in 
the  college  at  Washington,  nine  miles  from  Natchez.  He 
sent  for  his  sons,  and  put  them  to  school  at  Washington, 
but  was  depressed  in  spirits  because  his  work  interfered 
with  his  ornitho'  /gical  pursuits. 

"  y«/y  8.  Constant  exposure  in  the  tropical  climate, 
and  the  fatigue  of  my  journeys  to  and  from  Washington, 
brought  on  fever  and  a  renewal  of  a  certain  kind  doctor's 
attendance,  who  not  only  would  accept  of  no  remunera- 
tion, but  actually  insisted  on  my  taking  his  purse  to  pay 
for  the  expenses  connected  with  the  education  of  my  sons. 
Shortly  afterwards  I  made  an  engagement  with  Mr.  Bre- 
vost  to  teach  drawing  in  an  academy  just  opened  in 
Natchez  by  that  gentleman.  But  while  work  flowed  upon 
me,  the  hope  of  my  completing  my  book  upon  the  birds 


y: 


'1,1 


1' 

'1; 

i 

iH 

Hi 

92 


Life  of  Audubon, 


'U. 


of  America  became  less  clear ;  and  full  of  despair,  I  fear- 
ed my  hopes  of  becoming  known  to  Europe  as  a  natural- 
ist were  destined  to  be  blasted.  I  wrote  to  my  wife  to 
join  me  at  Natchez,  and  there  was  hopes  of  it  being  ac- 
compMshed. 

"  yuly  23.  My  friend,  Joseph  Mason,  left  me  to-day, 
and  we  experienced  great  pain  at  parting.  I  gave  him 
paper  and  chalks  to  work  his  way  with,  and  the  double- 
barrelled  gun  I  had  killed  most  of  my  birds  with,  and 
which  I  had  purchased  at  Philadelphia  in  1805.  ^  ^^^o 
began  to  copy  the  '  Death  of  Montgomery,'  from  a  print. 
My  drawing  was  highly  praised  by  my  friends  at  Natchez, 
and  Dr.  Provan,  like  a  good  genius,  insisted  it  should  be 
raffled.  I  valued  it  at  three  hundred  dollars,  and  Dr. 
Provan  sold  all  the  tickets  but  one,  at  ten  dollars  each. 
He  then  put  my  name  down  for  that,  saying  he  hoped  it 
would  be  the  winning  one.  The  raffle  took  place  in  my 
absence,  and  when  I  returned,  my  friend  the  doctor  came 
and  brought  me  three  hundred  dollars  and  the  picture, 
beautifully  framed,  saying,  '  Your  number  has  drawn  it, 
and  the  subscribers  are  all  agreed  that  no  one  is  more 
deserving  of  it  than  yourself.' " 

"  September  i.  My  wife  writes  to  me  that  the  child  she 
was  in  charge  of  is  dead,  and  that  consequently  she  had 
determined  to  come  on  to  Natchez.  I  received  her  with 
great  pleasure  at  the  landing,  and  immediately  got  a  house 
hired,  in  which  we  might  resume  housekeeping.  In  the 
mean  time  my  wife  engaged  with  a  clergyman  named 
Davis,  in  a  situation  similar  to  that  which  she  had  held  in 
New  Orleans.  I  was  much  pleased  with  the  conduct  of 
Mr.  Quaglass,  whose  kindness  of  heart  very  much  belied 
his  coarse  exterior. 

"  October  27.  I  met  a  gentleman  from  Mexico,  who 
proposed  to  me  to  gc  to  Mexico  and  establish  a  paper- 
mill  in  that  country     He  proposed  to  supply  the  funds 


Painting  in  Oil, 


93 


if  I  tCK)k  care  of  the  mill.  At  Natchez  I  met  Mr.  Mur- 
ray, formerly  of  Charleston,  and  Mr.  Blackburn,  formerly 
of  Cincinnati.  They  had  both  suffered  heavy  reverses  oi 
fortune,  and  appeared  to  me  to  be  in  distress.  Their 
change  of  fortune  was  sufficient  to  reconcile  me  to  my 
own  vexations. 

"  Noi'ember  3.  While  engaged  in  sketching  a  view  of 
Natchez,  an  English  gentleman  named  Leacock  was  in- 
troduced to  me  as  a  naturalist.  He  called  and  spent 
the  evening  with  me,  and  examined  my  drawings,  and  ad- 
vised me  to  visit  England  and  take  them  with  me.  But 
when  he  said  I  should  probably  have  to  spend  several 
years  tc  perfect  them,  and  to  make  myself  known,  I  closed 
my  drawings  and  turned  my  mind  from  the  thought.  My 
wife,  finding  it  difficult  to  get  her  salary  for  teaching,  has 
resolved  to  relinquish  her  situation." 

In  December  there  arrived  at  Natchez  a  portrait- 
painter,  from  whom  Audubon  received  his  first  lessons  in 
the  use  of  oil  colors,  and  who  was  in  return  instructed  by 
the  naturalist  in  chalk  drawing.  Mrs.  Audubon  was  de- 
sirous that  her  husband  should  go  to  Europe,  and  obtain 
complete  instruction  in  the  use  of  oil ;  and  with  this  aim 
in  view  she  entered  into  an  engagement  with  a  Mrs.  Per- 
cy to  educate  her  children,  along  with  her  own  and  a 
limited  number  of  pupils.  Mrs.  Percy  lived  at  Bayou 
Sara,  and  thither  Mrs.  Audubon  removed,  while  her  hus- 
band remained  at  Natchez,  painting  with  his  friend  Stein, 
the  artist  whose  instructions  in  oil  painting  had  been  so 
valuable.  After  enjoying  all  the  patronage  to  be  expect- 
ed at  Natchez,  Audubon  and  his  friend  Stein  resolved  to 
start  on  an  expedition  as  perambulating  portrait-painters  \ 
and  purchasing  a  wagon,  prepared  for  a  long  expedi- 
tion through  the  Southern  States. 

"  I  had  finally  determined  to  break  through  all  bonds, 
and  pursue  my  ornithological  pursuits.     My  best  friends 


i     ■! 


'<^ 


if 


ill 


«'■' « 


lU 


94 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


solemnly  regarded  me  as  a  madman,  and  my  wife  and 
family  alone  gave  me  encouragement.  My  wife  deter 
mined  that  my  genius  should  prevail,  and  that  my  final 
success  as  an  ornithologist  should  be  triumphant. 

^^  March,  1823.  My  preparations  for  leaving  Natche2 
almost  complete. 

'•^  May  I.  Left  Mr.  Percy's  on  a  visit  to  Jackson,  Mis- 
sissippi, which  I  found  to  be  a  mean  place,  a  rendezvous 
for  gamblers  and  vagabonds.  Disgusted  with  the  place 
and  the  people,  I  left  it  and  returned  to  my  wife.  I 
agreed  to  remain  with  the  Percys  throughout  the  sum- 
mer, and  teach  the  young  ladies  music  and  drawing.  I 
continued  to  exercise  myself  in  painting  with  oil,  and 
greatly  improved  myself.  I  undertook  to  paint  the  por- 
traits of  my  wife's  pupils,  but  found  their  complexions 
difficult  to  transfer  to  canvas.  On  account  of  some  mis- 
understanding, I  left  the  Percy's  and  returned  to  Natch- 
ez, but  did  not  know  what  course  to  follow.  I  thought  of 
going  to  Philadelphia,  and  again  thought  of  going  to 
Louisville  and  once  more  entering  upon  mercantile  pur- 
suits, but  had  no  money  to  move  anywhere." 

During  a  visit  to  a  plantation  near  Natchez,  both  he 
and  his  son  Victor  were  attacked  with  fever,  and  Mrs. 
Audubon  hastened  to  nurse  both  of  them. 

"  September  8.  I  was  asked  to  go  and  recruit  my  health 
at  the  Percys,  and  I  went  to  Bayou  Sara.  I  sent  on  my 
drawings  to  Philadelphia,  and  resolved  to  visit  that  city 
and  obtain  employment  as  a  teacher. 

"  September  30.  Sold  a  note  for  services  in  Natchez, 
and  with  proceeds  took  steamer  to  New  Orleans. 

"  October  3.  Left  New  Orleans  for  Kentucky,  where 
I  intended  to  leave  my  son  Victor  with  my  wife's  rela- 
tions, and  proceed  on  my  travels.  I  left  Bayou  Sara  with 
my  son  Victor  on  board  the  steamer  Magnet,  bound  for 
the  Ohio,  and  was  kindly  treated  by  Captain  McKnight, 


Wanderings  through  PFilds. 


95 


the  commander.  After  a  pleasant  voyage  we  arrived  at 
the  beautiful  village  of  Trinity,  but  found  the  water  tofl 
low  for  further  navigation.  I  had  resolved  to  push  on  my 
journey,  if  Victor  was  strong  enough  to  undertake  the  ex- 
ertion. Two  other  passengers  desired  to  accompany  us, 
and  after  I  had  left  my  luggage  to  the  care  (  f  the  tavern- 
keeper,  our  party  crossed  Cash  Creek,  at  which  I  had  be- 
fore spent  a  pleasant  time,  and  pushed  across  the  coun- 
try. Victor,  who  was  scarcely  fourteen,  was  a  lively  boy, 
and  had  no  fear  of  failing.  Cleaving  our  way,  Indian-file 
fashion,  through  the  cane  brakes — through  the  burnt 
forest  -  through  the  brushwood-clad  banks  of  the  river, 
and  along  the  pebbly  shore,  we  reached,  after  twelve 
miles'  walking,  the  village  of  America.  After  refreshing 
ourselves  we  covered  another  seven  miles,  and  reached  a 
cabin,  where  we  were  well  received  by  a  squatter  family. 
"  After  a  bath  in  the  Ohio,  my  son  and  myself  joined 
the  rest,  and  we  enjoyed  an  excellent  supper,  and  a  capi- 
tal sleep  in  such  beds  as  could  be  provided.  We  rose  at 
break  of  day  and  left  our  kind  host  and  hostess,  who 
would  receive  no  pecuniary  reward.  At  seven  miles 
further  we  found  an  excellent  breakfast  at  a  house  owned 
by  a  very  lazy  fellow,  whose  beautiful  wife  appeared  to  be 
superior  to  her  station,  and  who  conducted  the  household 
affairs  in  a  very  agreeable  manner.  We  left  a  dollar 
with  one  of  the  children,  and  pursued  our  way  along  the 
beach  of  the  Ohio.  After  proceeding  some  distance,  my 
son  Victor  broke  down,  but  after  a  rest  he  suddenly  re- 
vived at  the  sight  of  a  wild  turkey,  and  resumed  his  jour- 
ney in  good  spirits.  We  reached  Belgrade  and  continued 
our  journey.  Towards  sunset  we  reached  the  shores  ot 
the  river,  opposite  the  mouth  of  the  Cumberland.  On  a 
hill,  the  property  of  Major  B.,  we  found  a  house  and  a 
solitary  woman,  wretchedly  poor,  but  very  kind.  She  as- 
sured us  that  if  we  could  not  cross  the  river,  she  woulc 


m 
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m 


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HM-  ilil 


96 


Life  of  Audubon. 


give  us  food  and  shelter  for  the  night,  but  said  that  aa 
the  moon  was  up,  she  could  get  us  put  over  when  her 
skiff  came  back.  Hungry  and  fatigued,  we  lay  down  on 
the  brown  grass,  waiting  either  a  scanty  meal,  or  the  skift 
that  was  to  convey  us  across  the  river.  I  had  already 
grated  the  corn  for  our  supper,  run  down  the  chickens,, 
and  made  a  fire,  when  a  cry  of '  Boat  coming  1'  roused  us 
all.  We  crossed  the  river  Ohio,  and  I  again  found  my- 
self in  Kentucky,  the  native  state  of  my  two  sons.  We 
then  pursued  our  onward  journey,  but  my  son  suffered 
sorely  from  lameness.  As  we  trudged  along,  nothing  re- 
markable occurred  excepting  that  we  saw  a  fine  black 
wolf,  quite  tame  and  gentle,  the  owner  of  which  had  re- 
fused a  hundred  dollars  for  it.  Mr.  Rose,  who  was  an 
engineer,  and  a  man  of  taste,  played  on  the  flageolet  to 
lighten  our  journey.  At  an  orchard  we  filled  our  pockets 
with  October  peaches,  and  when  we  came  to  Trade  Water 
river  we  found  it  low ;  the  acorns  were  already  drifted  on 
its  shallows,  and  the  ducks  were  running  about  picking 
them  up.  Passing  a  flat  bottom,  we  saw  a  large  buffalo 
lick. 

"  We  reached  Highland  Lick,  where  we  stumbled  on 
a  cabin,  the  door  of  which  we  thrust  open,  overturning  a 
chair  that  had  been  put  behind  it.  On  a  dirty  bed  lay  a 
man,  a  table,  with  a  journal,  or  perhaps  ledger,  before 
him,  a  small  cask  in  the  corner  near  him,  a  brass  pistol 
on  a  nail  over  his  head,  and  a  long  Spanish  dagger  by 
his  side.  He  arose  and  asked  what  we  wanted  ?  *  The 
way  to  a  better  place,  the  road  to  Sugg's.'  '  Follow  the 
road,  and  you  will  get  to  his  house  in  about  five  miles.' 
Separating  from  our  companions,  who  were  unable  to 
proceed  at  the  same  pace,  we  reached  Green  River,  werfl 
ferried  across,  and  shortly  afterwards  reached  Louisville." 

"On  the  25th  October,  1822,"  writes  Audubon,  "I 
entered  Louisville  with  thirteen  dollars  in  my  pocket 


Return  to  Louisville, 


97 


My  son  Victor  I  managed  to  get  into  the  counting-house 
of  a  friend,  and  I  engag<  d  to  paint  the  interior  of  a  steam- 
er. I  was  advised  to  make  a  painting  of  tiie  falls  of  the 
Ohio,  and  commenced  the  work. 

"  Novetnber  9.  Busy  at  work,  when  the  weather  per- 
mitted, and  resolved  to  paint  one  hundred  views  of  Ameri- 
can scenery.  I  shall  not^  be  surprised  to  find  myself  seat- 
ed at  the  foot  of  Niagara." 

While  painting  he  mainly  resided  at  Shipping  Port,  a 
little  village  near  Louisville.  In  his  journey  between 
Green  River  and  Louisville,  he  took  conveyance  in  a  cart, 
the  owner  agreeing  to  drive  the  distance.  In  doing  so, 
the  driver  missed  his  route,  and  in  a  storm  went  far  off 
the  way.  The  horses  instinctively  led  the  way  to  a  log 
hut,  inhabited  by  a  newly-married  pair,  who  did  their  ut- 
most to  show  befitting  hospitality.  In  the  midst  of  a  hur- 
ricane the  host  rode  off"  to  his  father's,  some  miles  dis- 
tant, for  a  keg  of  cider ;  the  wife  baked  bread  and  roasted 
fowls,  and  finally  determined  to  sleep  on  the  floor,  so  that 
the  strangers  might  have  the  comfort  of  a  bed. 

Of  such  hospitality  Audubon  speaks  highly,  and  seems 
to  lament  its  decadence  among  residents  in  the  more  civ- 
ilized states  of  the  Union.  Some  notes  upon  the  effects 
of  the  floods  which  swell  American  rivers  into  inland  seas 
are  also  contained  in  the  journal  of  his  residence  at  I^ou- 
isville.  Writing  of  the  devastation  created  by  overflows 
of  the  Mississippi,  he  remarks  : — 

"  The  river  rises  until  its  banks  are  flooded  and  the 
levees  overflown.  It  then  sweeps  inland,  over  swamps, 
prairie,  and  forest,  until  the  country  is  a  turbid  ocean, 
checkered  by  masses  and  strips  of  the  forest,  through 
which  the  flood  rolls  lazily  down  cypress-shadowed 
glades  under  the  gloomy  pines,  and  into  unexplored  re- 
cesses, where  the  trailing  vine  and  umbrageous  foliage 
dim  t)ie  light  of  the  noonday  sun.  In  islets  left  amid  the 
5 


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98 


Life  of  Audubon, 


waste,  deer  in  thousands  are  driven ;  and  the  squatter, 
with  his  gun  and  canoe,  finds  on  these  refuges  the  game 
(Vhlch  he  slaughters  remorselessly  for  the  skins  or  feath- 
ers that  will  sell.  Floating  on  a  raft  made  fast  by  a  vine 
rope  to  some  stout  trees,  the  farmer  and  his  family  pre- 
serve their  lives,  while  the  stream  bears  away  their  hab- 
itation, their  cut  wood,  their  stores  of  grain,  their  stock, 
and  all  their  household  goods.  From  creeks  of  the  forest 
other  rafts  float,  laden  with  produce  for  New  Orleans,  and 
guided  by  adventurous  boatmen  who  have  but  vague 
knowledge  of  their  devious  way,  and  to  whom  the  naviga- 
tion of  an  inland  river  is  not  less  hazardous  than  a  voy- 
age on  a  stormy  sea  would  be. 

"  I  have  floated  on  the  Mississippi  and  Ohio  when 
thus  swollen,  and  have  in  different  places  visited  the  sub- 
merged lands  of  the  interior,  propelling  a  light  canoe  by 
the  aid  of  a  paddle.  In  this  manner  I  have  traversed 
immense  portions  of  the  country  overflowed  by  the  waters 
of  these  rivers,  and  particularly  whilst  floating  over  the 
Mississippi  bottom  lands  I  have  been  struck  with  awe  at 
the  sight.  Little  or  no  current  is  met  with,  unless  when 
the  canoe  passes  over  tlie  bed  of  a  bayou.  All  is  silent 
and  melancholy,  unless  when  the  mournful  bleating  of 
the  hemmed  in  deer  reaches  your  ear,  or  the  dismal 
scream  of  an  eagle  or  a  heron  is  heard,  or  the  foul  bird 
rises,  disturbed  by  your  approach,  from  the  carcass  on 
which  it  was  allaying  its  craving  appetite.  Bears,  cou- 
gars, lynxes,  and  all  other  quadrupeds  that  can  ascend 
the  trees,  are  observed  crouched  among  their  top  branch- 
es j  hungry  in  the  midst  of  abundance,  although  they  see 
floating  around  them  the  animals  on  which  they  usually 
prey.  They  dare  not  venture  to  swim  to  them.  Fa- 
tigued by  the  exertions  which  they  have  made  in  reach- 
in;^^  dry  land,  they  will  there  stand  the  hunter's  fire,  as  if 
to  die  by  a  ball  were  better  than  to  perish  amid  the  waste 


i^ 
'^^. 


cti;*' 


Notes  on  Inundations. 


99 


of  waters.    On  occasions  like  this,  all  these  animals  are 
shot  by  hundreds. 

"Opposite  the  city  of  Natchez,  which  stands  on  a 
bluff  bank  of  considerable  elevation,  the  extent  of  inun- 
dated land  is  immense,  the  greater  portion  of  the  tract 
lying  between  the  Mississippi  and  the  Red  River,  which 
is  more  than  thirty  miles,  being  under  water." 


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CHAPTER  VIII. 

4uaubon  reaches  Philadelphia  —  Introduction  to  Sully  the  Painter  -* 
Introduction  to  the  Prince  of  Canino  —  A  Gigantic  Engraver  — 
Meetings  with  Rosier  and  Joseph  Mason  —  Visit  to  Mill  Grave 
and  Fatland — A   noble    Gift — Audubon   leaves   Philadelphia 

—  Arrival  cu  Vew  York — Meeting  with  Joseph  Botmparte  — 
Leaves  New  Vorh,  and  arrives  at  Albany —  Visit  to  Niagara  — 
A  Voyage  down  the  Ohio  to  the  South  —  Arrival  at  Cincinnati 

—  Voyage  to  Bayou  Sara — Meeting  Mrs.  Audubon  —  Turns 
Dancing-master. 

UDUBON  reached  Philadelphia  on  April  5, 
1824.  The  journey  to  that  city  was  undertaken 
as  a  desperate  venture  to  obtain  help  to  com- 
plete his  ornithological  work,  and  he  was  soon  satisfied 
that  the  venture  would  be  successful. 

"  I  purchased  a  new  suit  of  clothes,  and  dressed  my- 
self with  extreme  neatness ;  after  which  I  called  upon  Dr. 
Mease,  an  oid  friend.  I  was  received  with  kindness, 
and  was  introduced  to  a  gentleman  named  Earle,  who  ex- 
hibited my  drawings.  I  was  also  introduced  to  several 
artists,  who  paid  me  pleasant  attentions,  and  I  also  ob- 
tained entrance  to  the  Philadelphia  Athenaeum  and  Phil- 
osophical Library.  I  was  fortunate  in  obtaining  an  in- 
troduction to  the  portrait-painter,  Sully,  a  man  after  my 
own  heart,  and  who  showed  me  great  kindnesses.  He 
was  a  beautiful  singer,  and  an  artist  whose  hints  and  ad- 
vice were  of  great  service  to  me.  I  afterwards  saw  Sully 
in  London,  where  he  was  painting  a  portrait  of  the  Queen 
of  England,  and  had  an  opportunity  of  returning  his  kind- 
nesses. 


21^^  Prince  of  Canino, 


lOl 


"  Aj>rii  lo.  I  was  introduced  to  the  Prince  Canino^ 
son  of  Lucien,  and  nephew  of  Napoleon  Buonaparte,  who 
examined  my  birds,  and  was  complimentary  in  his  praises. 
He  was  at  the  time  engaged  on  a  volume  of  American 
birds,  which  was  soon  to  be  published ;  but  this  did  not 
prevent  him  from  admiring  another  naturalist's  work. 

"  April  12.  Met  the  prince  at  Dr.  Mease's,  and  he 
expressed  a  wish  to  examine  my  drawings  more  particu- 
larly, r  found  him  very  gentlemanly.  He  called  in  his 
carriage,  took  me  to  Peale,  the  artist,  who  was  drawing 
specimens  of  birds  for  liis  work ;  but  from  want  of  knowl 
edge  of  the  habits  of  birds  in  a  wiid  state,  he  represented 
them  as  if  seated  for  a  portrait,  instead  of  with  their  own 
lively  animated  ways  when  seeking  their  natural  food  or 
pleasure.  Other  notable  persons  called  to  see  my  draw- 
ings, and  encouraged  me  with  their  remarks.  The  Prince 
of  Canino  introduced  me  to  the  Academy  of  Arts  and 
Sciences,  and  pronounced  my  birds  superb,  and  worthy 
of  a  pupil  of  David.  I  formed  the  acquaintance  of  Le 
Sueur,  the  zoologist  and  artist,  who  was  greatly  delighted 
with  my  drawings. 

"  April  14.  After  breakfast  met  the  prince,  who  called 
with  me  on  Mr.  Lawson,  the  engraver  of  Mr.  Wilson's 
plates.  This  gentleman's  figure  nearly  reached  the  roof, 
his  face  was  sympathetically  long,  and  his  tongue  was  so 
k  ng  that  we  obtained  no  opportunity  of  speaking  in  his 
company.  Lawson  said  my  drawings  were  too  soft,  too 
much  like  oil  paintings,  and  objected  to  engrave  them. 
Mr.  Fairman  we  found  to  be  an  engraver  better  able  to 
appreciate  my  drawings,  but  he  strongly  advised  me  to  go 
to  England,  to  have  them  engraved  in  a  superior  manner. 

'■''April  15.  I  obtained  a  room,  and  commenced  work 
in  earnest  Prince  Canino  engaged  me  to  superintend 
his  drawings  intended  for  publication,  but  my  terms  be- 
ing much  dearer  than  Alexander  Wilson's,  I  was  asked  to 


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Life  of  Auduhon, 


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discontinue  this  work.  I  had  now  determined  to  go  to 
Europe  with  my  *  treasures/  since  I  was  assured  nothing 
so  fine  in  the  way  of  ornithological  representations  exist- 
ed. I  worked  incessantly  to  complete  my  series  of  draw- 
ings. On  inquiry,  I  found  Sully  and  Le  Sueur  made  a 
poor  living  by  their  brush.  I  had  some  pupils  offered  at 
a  dollar  per  lesson ;  but  I  found  the  citizens  unwilling  to 
pay  for  art,  although  they  affected  to  patronize  it.  I  ex- 
hibited my  drav/ings  for  a  week,  but  found  the  show  did 
not  pay,  and  so  determined  to  remove  myself.  I  was  in- 
troduced to  Mr.  Ensel  of  Boston,  an  entomologist,  then 
engaged  upon  a  work  on  American  spiders.  Those  in- 
terested in  Wilson's  book  on  the  American  birds  advised 
me  not  to  publish,  and  not  only  cold  water,  but  ice,  was 
ooured  upon  my  undertaking.  Had  a  visit  from  my  old 
partner  Rosier,  who  was  still  thirsting  for  money. 

"  May  30.  My  dear  friend  Joseph  Mason  paid  me  a 
delightful  visit  to-day.  Showed  all  my  drawings  to  Titian 
Peel,  who  in  return  refused  to  let  me  see  a  new  bird  in 
his  possession.  This  little  incident  filled  me  with  grief  at 
the  narrow  spirit  of  humanity,  and  makes  me  wish  for  the 
solitude  of  the  woods. 

"  June  12.  Giving  lessons  in  drawing  at  thirty  dollars 
per  month.  A  visit  from  Rembrandt  Peale,  who  liked  ray 
drawings,  and  asked  me  to  his  studio,  where  I  saw  his 
portrait  of  General  Washington,  but  preferred  the  style  of 
Sully.  Had  a  visit  from  Mr.  McMurtrie,  the  naturalist, 
whose  study  of  shells  has  made  him  famous.  He  ad- 
vised me  to  take  my  drawings  to  England.  I  labor  as- 
siduously at  oil  painting.  I  have  now  been  twenty  five 
years  pursuing  my  ornithological  studies.  Prince  Canino 
often  visited  me  and  admired  my  drawings.  He  advised 
me  to  go  to  France.  The  French  consul  was  still  warmer 
in  his  sympathies,  and  kind  in  his  encouraging  assur 
suices. 


Sully y  the  Painter. 


103 


"  ^une  26.  Anxious  to  carry  out  my  project  of  a  visit 
to  Europe — anxious  to  see  my  wife  before  leaving — an» 
ious  to  see  my  old  quarters  of  Mill  Grove — anxious  to  get 
more  instruction  from  my  kind  master,  Sully ;  and  alto- 
gether unable  to  settle  what  course  would  be  the  most 
preferable.  I  was  rejoiced  at  the  progress  I  made  in  oil 
painting,  and  was  overwhelmed  with  the  goodness  of 
Sully,  who  would  receive  no  recompense  for  his  instruc- 
tions, and  gave  me  all  the  possible  encouragement  which 
his  affectionate  heart  could  dictate, 

"  ^uly  1 2.  Visited  by  Mr.  Gilpin,  who  thirty-three 
years  ago  discovered  the  lead  ore  at  Mill  Grove.  Called 
on  Dr.  Harlan,  an  amiable  physician  and  naturalist,  and 
a  member  of  the  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences.  Gave 
him  some  of  my  drawings,  and  he  promised  me  letters  to 
the  Royal  Academy  of  France,  and  afterwards  nominated 
me  for  membership  to  the  Academy  in  Philadelphia.  He 
was  one  of  the  best  men  I  have  met  with  in  the  city,  and 
the  very  best  among  the  naturalists." 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  warm  friendship  between 
these  two  good  men,  which  increased  with  time,  and  last- 
ed until  the  doctor  died.  At  the  same  time  Audubon 
formed  a  friendship  with  Edward  Harris,  a  young  orni- 
thologist of  refinement,  wealth,  and  education,  who  out- 
lived Audubon,  and  extended  prompt  relief  to  his  wife 
during  her  distress  after  her  husband's  death.  When  the 
naturalist  was  about  to  leave  Philadelphia,  Harris  pur- 
chased some  of  his  drawings,  and  on  being  offered  his 
picture  of  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio,  at  a  sacrifice,  declined 
the  purchase,  but  as  he  was  saying  good-bye,  squeezed  a 
hundred-dollar  bill  into  his  friend's  hand,  saying,  "  Mr. 
Audubon,  accept  this  from  me  ;  men  like  you  ought  not 
to  want  for  money," 

"I  could  only  c^^.:2ss  my  gratitude  by  insisting  on 
his  receiving  the  drawings  of  all  my  French  birds,  whic^ 


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104 


Life  of  Audubon, 


ti.. .. 


he  did,  and  I  was  relieved.  This  is  the  second  instance 
of  disinterested  generosity  I  have  met  with  in  my  life,  the 
good  Dr.  Provan  of  Natchez  being  the  other.  And  now 
I  have  in  hand  one  hundred  and  thirty  dollars  to  begin 
my  journey  of  three  thousand  miles.  Before  this  I  have 
always  thought  I  could  work  my  way  through  the  world 
by  my  industry;  but  I  see  that  I  shall  have  to  leave 
here,  as  Wilson  often  did,  without  a  cent  in  my  pocket. 

"  yuly  26.  Reuben  Haines,  a  generous  friend,  invited 
me  to  visit  Mill  Grove  in  his  carriage,  and  I  was  impa- 
tient until  the  day  came.  His  wife,  a  beautiful  woman, 
and  her  daughter,  accompanied  us.  On  the  way  my 
heart  swelled  with  many  thoughts  of  what  my  Hfe  had 
been  there,  of  the  scenes  I  had  passed  through  since, 
and  of  my  condition  now.  As  we  entered  the  avenue 
leading  to  Mill  Grove,  every  step  brought  to  my  mind  the 
memory  of  past  years,  and  I  was  bewildered  by  the  rec- 
ollections until  we  reached  the  door  of  the  house,  which 
had  once  been  the  residence  of  my  father  as  well  as  my- 
self. The  cordial  welcome  of  Mr.  Wetherill,  the  owner, 
was  extremely  agreeable.  After  resting  a  few  moments, 
I  abruptly  took  my  hat  and  ran  wildly  towards  the  woods, 
to  the  grotto  where  I  first  heard  from  my  wife  the  ac- 
knowledgment that  she  was  not  indifferent  to  me.  It 
had  been  torn  down,  and  some  stones  carted  away ;  but 
raising  my  eyes  towards  heaven,  I  repeated  the  promise 
we  had  mutually  made.  We  dined  at  Mill  Grove,  and 
as  I  entered  the  parlor  I  stood  motionless  for  a  moment 
on  the  spot  where  my  wife  and  myself  were  for  ever  join- 
ed. Everybody  was  kind  to  me,  and  invited  me  to  come 
to  the  Grove  whenever  I  visited  Pennsylvania,  and  I  re- 
turned full  of  delight.  Gave  Mr.  Haines  my  portrait, 
drawn  by  myself,  on  condition  that  he  should  have  it 
copied  in  case  of  my  death  before  making  another,  and 
send  it  to  my  wife. 


Letters  of  Introduction. 


105 


"  yuly  31.  Engaged  in  preparations  for  leaving  Phila 
delphia,  where  I  received  many  letters  of  introduction 
Among  them  are  the  following : — 

**  *  Gilbert  Stuart,  Esq., 
"'Dear  Sir, 

"'It  is  hardly  necessary  for  Mr.  Audubon  to  take 
credentials  for  an  introduction  to  you ;  the  inspection  of 
one  of  his  drawings  of  birds  will  be  sufficient  recommend- 
ation to  your  notice.  Yet  an  acquaintance  with  him  of 
several  months  enables  me  to  speak  of  him  as  a  man,  and 
I  would  consent  to  forfeit  all  chim.  c  discernment  of 
character  if  he  does  not  merit  your  esteem. 

" '  Sincerely  your  friend, 

"'Thomas  Sully.'" 

"  *  Washington  Alston,  Esq., 
"'Dear  Sir, 

" '  Mr.  Audubon  will  call  on  you  with  this,  and  will  be 
pleased  to  show  you  specimens  of  his  drawings  in  orni- 
thology. He  is  engaged  in  preparing  a  work  on  this  sub- 
ject for  puWication,  which  for  copiousness  and  talent 
bids  fair  in  my  estimation  to  surpass  all  that  has  yet  been 
done,  at  least  in  this  country.  I  have  great  esteem  for 
the  character  of  Mr.  Audubon,  and  am  pleased  to  make 
him  known  to  you,  though  I  should  hesitate  to  give  a  let- 
ter of  introduction  to  you  in  favor  of  an  ordinary  person, 
knowing  that  your  time  is  precious  ;  but  in  the  present 
instance  I  run  no  risk  of  intrusion.  I  shall  always  re- 
member you  with  affectionate  regard. 

'' '  Sincerely  your  friend, 

"'Thomas  Sully.'" 

A  letter  of  similar  import  was  given  by  Mr.  Sully  to 
Colonel  Trumbull. 

^^  August  I,  1824.     I  left  Philadelphia  for  New  York 
yesterday  at  five  o'clock,  in  good  health,  free  from  debt 
5* 


:IP 


lli 


HI: 


fyff. 

m 


f  IJ 


io6 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


1 1 


i 


8  If* 


and  free  from  anxiety  about  the  future.  On  arriving  at 
New  York  a  cart  took  our  luggage  to  our  lodgings,  and 
about  one  hundred  passengers  perched  about  us,  as  I 
have  seen  chimney-swallows  percHed  on  a  roof  before 
their  morning  flight.  I  felt  happy  and  comfortable  in 
the  city,  and  sauntered  about  admiring  itf.  beautiful 
streets  and  landings.  I  found  most  of  the  parties  to 
whom  I  carried  letters  of  introduction  absent,  and  I 
already  began  to  regret  leaving  Philadelphia  so  hur- 
riedly. I  began  to  consider  whether  I  should  visit 
Albany  or  Boston,  in  the  hope  of  improving  my  financial 
position. 

"August  2.  Met  Joseph  Buonaparte,  and  his  two 
daughters,  and  his  nephew,  Charles,  Prince  of  Canino. 
Visited  the  museum  at  New  York,  and  found  the  speci- 
mens of  stuffed  birds  set  up  in  unnatural  and  constrained 
attitudes.  This  appears  to  be  the  universal  practice,  and 
the  world  owes  tc  me  the  adoption  of  the  plan  of  drawing 
from  animated  nature  Wilson  is  the  only  one  who  has 
in  any  tolerable  degree  adopted  my  plan. 

"August  3.  Called  on  Vanderlyn,  and  was  kindly 
received  by  him.  Examined  his  pictures  with  pleasure, 
and  saw  the  medal  given  him  by  Napoleon,  but  was  not 
imprer'jcd  with  the  idea  that  he  was  a  great  painter. 

"  August  4.  Called  on  Dr.  Mitchell  with  my  letters 
of  introduction,  who  gave  me  a  kind  letter  to  his  friend 
Dr.  Barnes,  explaining  that  I  wished  to  show  my  draw- 
ings to  the  members  of  the  Lyceum,  and  become  a  mem- 
bei  of  that  institution. 

"  August  9.  I  have  been  making  inquiries  regarding 
the  publication  of  my  drawings  in  New  York ;  but  find 
that  there  is  little  prospect  of  the  undertaking  being 
favorably  received.  I  have  reason  to  suspect  that 
unfriendly  communications  have  been  sent  to  the  pub- 
Ushers  from  Philadelphia,  by  parties  interested  in  Wilson's 


( 


Sits  for  a  Portrait  of  Jackson.  107 


( 


volume,  and  who  have  represented  that  my  drawings  have 
not  been  wholly  done  by  myself.  Full  of  despair,  I  look 
to  Europe  as  my  only  hope.  With  my  friend  Dr.  De  Kay 
I  visited  the  Lyceum,  and  my  portfolio  was  examined  by 
the  members  of  the  institute,  among  whom  I  felt  awkward 
and  uncomfortable.  After  living  among  such  people  I 
feel  clouded  and  depressed  ;  remember  that  I  have  done 
nothing,  and  fear  I  may  die  unknown.  I  feel  I  am  strange 
to  all  but  the  birds  of  America.  In  a  few  days  I  shall  be 
in  the  woods  and  quite  forgotten. 

"  August  10.  My  spirits  low,  and  I  long  for  the 
woods  again ;  but  the  prospect  of  becoming  known 
prompts  me  to  remain  another  day.  Met  the  artist  Van- 
derlyn,  who  asked  me  to  give  him  a  sitting  for  a  portrait 
of  General  Jackson,  since  my  fig  ire  considerably  resem- 
bled that  of  the  General,  more  than  any  he  had  ever 
seen.  I  likewise  sketched  my  landlady  and  child,  and 
filled  my  time. 

^^  August  15.  Sailed  up  the  Hudson  for  Albany  with 
three  hundred  and  seventy-five  passengers,  twenty-three 
of  whom  were  composed  of  a  delegation  of  Indians  from 
six  tribes,  who  were  returning  to  the  West  from  Washing- 
ton. Arrived  at  Albany,  but  found  both  De  Witt  Clinton 
and  Dr.  Beck  absent.  Money  getting  scarce,  I  abandoned 
the  idea  of  visiting  Boston,  but  determined  to  see  Niagara. 
Engaged  a  passage  at  seven  dollars  on  a  canal-boat  for 
Rochester,  distant  two  hundred  and  sixty-eight  miles. 
No  incident  happened  to  me  worth  recording,  only  that 
the  passengers  were  doubtful  whether  or  not  I  was  a 
government  officer,  commissioner,  or  spy.  I  obtained 
some  new  birds  by  the  way,  and  in  six  days  I  arrived  at 
Rochester. 

"Rochester,  August  22.  Five  years  ago  there  were 
bu;  few  buildings  here,  and  the  population  is  now  five 
thousand;    the  banks  of  the  river  are  lined  with  mills 


'3 


i 


i 


io8 


Life  of  Auduhon. 


and  factories.  The  beautiful  falls  of  the  Genesee  river, 
about  eighty  feet  high  and  four  times  as  broad,  I  have 
visited,  and  have  made  a  slight  sketch  of  them.  One  and 
a  half  miles  below  is  another  fall  of  the  same  height,  but 
the  water  is  much  more  broken  in  its  descent 

^^  August  24.  Took  passa;e  for  Buffalo,  arrived  safely, 
and  passed  a  sleepless  night,  as  most  of  my  nights  have 
been  since  I  began  my  wanderings.  Left  next  morning 
for  the  Falls  of  Niagara ;  the  country  is  poor,  the  soil 
stiff  white  clay,  and  the  people  are  lank  and  sallow. 
Arrived  at  the  hotel,  found  but  few  visitors,  recorded  my 
name,  and  wrote  under  it,  *  who,  like  Wilson,  will  ramble, 
but  never,  like  that  great  man,  die  under  the  lash  of  a 
bookseller.' 

"  All  trembling  I  reached  the  Falls  of  Niagara,  and  oh, 
what  a  scene !  my  blood  shudders  still,  although  I  am  not 
a  coward,  at  the  grandeur  of  the  Creator's  power ;  and  I 
gazed  motionless  on  this  new  display  of  the  irresistible 
force  of  one  of  His  elements.  The  falls,  the  rainbow, 
the  rapids,  and  the  surroundings  all  unite  to  strike  the 
senses  with  awe ;  they  defy  description  with  pen  or  pen- 
cil \  and  a  view  satisfied  me  that  Niagara  never  had  been 
and  never  will  be  painted.  I  moved  towards  the  rapids, 
over  which  there  is  a  bridge  to  Groat  island,  that  I  would 
like  to  have  crossed,  to  look  on  the  water  which  was 
rushing  with  indescribable  swiftness  below,  but  was 
deterred  from  the  low  state  of  my  funds.  Walking  along 
the  edge  of  the  stream  for  a  few  hundred  yards,  the  full 
effect  of  the  whole  grand  rush  of  the  water  was  before 
me.  The  color  of  the  water  was  a  verdigris  green,  and 
contrasted  remarkably  with  the  falling  torrent  The  mist 
of  the  spray  mounted  to  the  clouds,  while  the  roaring 
below  sounded  like  constant  heavy  thunder,  making  me 
think  at  times  that  the  earth  was  shaking  also. 

**  From  this  point  I  could  see  three-quarters  of  a  mile 


Falls  of  Niagara. 


109 


down  the  river,  which  appeared  quite  calm.  I  descended 
a  flight  of  about  seventy  steps,  and  walked  and  crouched 
on  my  hams  along  a  rugged,  slippery  path  to  the  edge  of 
the  river,  where  a  man  and  skiff  are  always  waiting  to 
take  visitors  to  the  opposite  shore.  I  approached  as 
near  the  falling  water  as  I  could,  without  losing  sight  of 
the  objects  behind  me.  In  a  few  moments  my  clothes 
were  wet.  I  retired  a  few  hundred  yards  to  admire  two 
beautiful  rain  ows,  which  seemed  to  surround  me,  and 
also  looked  as  if  spanning  obliquely  from  the  American 
to  the  Canadian  shore.  Visitors  can  walk  under  the 
falling  sheet  of  water,  and  see  through  it,  while  at  their 
feet  are  thousands  of  eels  lying  side  by  side,  trying  vainly 
to  ascend  the  torrent. 

"  I  afterwards  strolled  through  the  village  to  find 
some  bread  and  milk,  and  ate  a  good  dinner  for  twelve 
cents.  Went  to  bed  at  night  thinking  of  Franklin  eating 
his  roll  in  the  streets  of  Philadelphia,  of  Goldsmith  trav- 
elling by  the  help  of  his  musical  powers,  and  of  other 
great  men  who  had  worked  their  way  through  hardships 
and  difficulties  to  fame,  and  fell  asleep,  hoping,  by  perse- 
vering industry,  to  make  a  name  for  myself  among  my 
countrymen. 

"Buffalo,  August  25.  This  village  was  utterly  de- 
stroyed by  fire  in  the  war  of  eighteen  hundred  and 
twelve,  but  now  has  about  two  hundred  houses,  a  bank, 
and  daily  mail.  It  is  now  filled  with  Indians,  who  have 
come  here  to  receive  their  annuity  from  the  government. 
The  chief  Red  Jacket  is  a  noble-looking  man ;  another, 
called  the  Devil's  Ramrod,  has  a  savage  look.  Took  a 
deck-passage  on  board  a  schooner  bound  to  Erie,  Penn- 
sylvania ;  fare,  one  dollar  and  fifty  cents,  to  furnish  my 
own  bed  and  provisions ;  my  buffalo-robe  and  blanket 
served  for  the  former.  The  captain  invited  me  to  sleep 
in  the  cabin,  but  I  declined,  as  1  never  encroach  where  I 


liii  1 


i 


no 


Life  of  Audubon, 


have  no  right.  The  sky  was  serene,  and  I  threw  myself 
on  the  deck  contemplating  the  unfathomable  immensity 
above  me,  and  contrasting  the  comforts  which  only  ten 
days  before  I  was  enjoying  with  my  present  condition. 
Even  the  sailors,  ignorant  of  my  name,  look  on  me  as  a 
poor  devil  not  able  to  pay  for  a  cabin  passage. 

"In  our  voyage  we  had  safely  run  the  distance  to 
Presque  Isle  Harbor,  but  could  not  pass  the  bar  on 
account  of  a  violent  gale.  The  anchor  was  dropped, 
and  we  remained  on  board  during  the  night.  How  long 
we  might  have  remained  at  anchor  I  cannot  tell,  had  not 
Captain  Judd,  of  the  United  States  Navy,  then  probably 
commandant  at  Presque  Isle,  sent  a  gig  with  six  men  to 
our  relief.  It  was  on  the  29th  of  August,  1824,  and 
never  shall  I  forget  that  morning.  My  drawings  were 
put  into  the  boat  with  the  greatest  care.  We  shifted  into 
it,  and  seated  ourselves  according  to  direction.  Our 
brave  fel'ows  pulled  hard,  and  every  moment  brought  us 
nearer  to  the  American  shore  j  I  leaped  upon  it  with 
elated  heart.  My  drawings  were  safely  landed,  and  for 
any  thing  else  I  cared  little  at  the  moment.  After  a 
humble  meal  of  bread  and  milk,  a  companion  and  myself 
settled  to  proceed  upon  our  journey.  Our  luggage  was 
rather  heavy,  so  we  hired  a  cart  to  take  it  to  Meadville, 
for  which  we  offered  five  dollars.  This  sum  was  accepted, 
and  we  set  off. 

*•  The  country  through  which  we  passed  might  have 
proved  favorable  to  our  pursuits,  had  it  not  rained  nearly 
the  whole  day.  At  night  we  alighted,  and  put  up  at  a 
house  belonging  to  our  conductor's  father.  It  was  Sun- 
day night.  The  good  folks  had  not  yet  returned  from  a 
distant  church,  the  grandmother  of  our  driver  being  the 
only  individual  about  the  premises.  We  found  her  a 
cheerful  dame,  who  bestirred  herself  actively,  got  up  a 
blazing  fire  to  dry  our  wet  clothes,  and  put  bread  and 


yisits  Meadville, 


III 


milk  on  the  table.  We  asked  for  a  place  in  which  to 
rest,  and  were  shown  into  a  room  in  which  were  several 
beds.  My  companion  and  myself  were  soon  in  bed  and 
asleep ;  but  our  slumbers  were  broken  by  a  light,  which 
we  found  to  be  carried  by  three  young  damsels,  who, 
having  observed  where  we  lay,  blew  it  out  and  got  into  a 
bed  opposite  ours.  As  we  had  not  spoken,  the  girls 
supposed  we  were  sound  asleep,  and  we  heard  them  say 
how  delighted  they  would  be  to  have  their  portraits 
taken  as  well  as  their  grandmother,  whose  likeness  I 
had  promised  to  draw.  Day  dawned,  and  as  we  were 
dressing  we  discovered  the  girls  had  dressed  in  silence 
and  left  us  before  we  had  awakened.  No  sooner  had  I 
offered  to  draw  the  portraits  of  the  girls  than  they  dis- 
appeared, and  soon  returned  in  their  Sunday  clothes. 
The  black  chalk  was  at  work  in  a  few  minutes,  to  their 
great  delight ;  and  while  the  flavor  of  the  breakfast 
reached  my  sensitive  nose,  I  worked  with  redoubled 
ardor.  The  sketches  were  soon  finished,  and  the  break- 
fast over.  I  played  a  few  airs  on  my  flageolet  v/hile  our 
guide  was  putting  the  horses  to  the  cart,  and  by  ten 
o'clock  we  were  once  more  on  the  road  to  Meadville. 

"  The  country  was  covered  with  heavy  timber,  princi- 
pally evergreens ;  the  pines  and  cucumber  irees,  loaded 
with  brilliant  fruits,  and  the  spruce,  throwing  a  shade 
over  the  land,  in  good  keeping  with  the  picture.  The 
lateness  of  the  crops  alone  struck  us  as  unpleasant.  At 
length  we  came  in  sight  of  French  Creek,  and  soon  after 
we  reached  Meadville.  Here  we  paid  the  five  dollais 
promised  to  our  conductor,  who  instantly  faced  about, 
and  applying  the  whip  to  his  nags,  bade  us  adieu. 

"  We  had  now  only  one  dollar  and  fifty  cents.  No 
time  was  to  be  lost  We  put  our  luggage  and  ourselves 
under  the  roof  of  a  tavern-keeper,  known  by  the  name 
of  J.  F.  Smith,  at  the  sign  of  the  *  Travellers'  Rest,'  and 


I 


•'■  1 1 


'■\ 


4m 


112 


Life  of  Audubon. 


I; 


1 

i 

Wt 

l; . ' 

1 

|r 

m 

1 

n    ■>•  ■' 

soon  after  took  a  walk  to  survey  the  little  village  that 
was  to  be  laid  under  contribution  for  our  support.  Put- 
ting my  portfolio  under  my  arm,  and  a  few  good  creden 
tials  in  my  pocket,  I  walked  up  the  main  street,  looking 
to  the  right  and  left,  examining  the  different  heads  which 
occurred,  until  I  fixed  my  eyes  on  a  gentleman  in  a  store 
who  looked  as  if  he  might  want  a  sketch.  I  begged  him 
CO  allow  me  to  sit  down.  This  granted,  I  remained  per- 
fectly silent,  and  he  soon  asked  me  what  was  in  that 
*  portfolio.'  The  words  sounded  well,  and  without  wait- 
ing another  instant  I  opened  it  to  his  view.  He  was  a 
Hollander,  who  complimented  me  on  the  execution  of  the 
drawings  of  birds  and  flowers  in  my  portfolio.  Showing 
him  a  sketch  of  the  best  friend  I  have  in  the  world  at 
present,  I  asked  him  if  he  would  like  one  in  the  same 
style  of  himself.  He  not  only  answered  in  the  affirma- 
tive, but  assured  me  that  he  would  exert  himself  in  pro- 
curing as  many  more  customers  as  he  could.  I  thanked 
him,  and  returned  to  the  *  Travellers'  Rest '  with  a  hope 
that  to-morrow  might  prove  propitious.  Supper  was 
ready,  and  we  began  our  meal.  I  was  looked  on  as  a 
missionary  priest,  on  account  of  my  hair,  which  in  those 
days  flowed  loosely  on  my  shoulders.  I  was  asked  to 
say  grace,  which  I  did  with  a  fervent  spirit.  Next  morn- 
ing I  visited  the  merchant,  and  succeeded  in  making  a 
sketch  of  him  that  pleased  him  highly.  While  working 
at  him  the  room  became  crowded  with  the  village  aris- 
tocracy. Some  laughed,  while  others  expressed  their 
wonder,  but  my  woik  went  on.  My  sitter  invited  me  to 
spend  the  evening  with  him,  which  I  did,  and  joined  him 
in  some  music  on  the  flute  and  violin.  I  returned  to  my 
companion  with  great  pleasure ;  and  you  may  judge  how 
much  that  pleasure  was  increased  when  I  found  that  he 
also  had  made  two  sketches.  Having  written  a  page  or 
two  of  our  journals,  we  retired  to  rest    With  our  pockets 


Thought  on  Religion, 


"3 


replenished  we  soon  afterwards  left  for  Pittsburg,  where 
we  arrived  in  safety. 

"  September  7.  I  was  more  politely  received  than  on 
former  occasions  at  Pittsburg,  which  I  found  was  due  to 
the  reception  I  had  met  with  in  Philadelphia,  and  some 
rumors  of  which  had  reached  the  West. 

"  October  9  Spent  one  month  at  Pittsburg  scouring 
the  country  for  birds,  and  continuing  my  drawings.  Made 
the  acquaintance  of  the  Rev.  John  H.  Hopkins.  Found 
him  an  amiable  man,  and  attended  some  of  his  ministra* 
tions.  I  met  a  Mr.  Baldwin,  who  volunteered  to  subscribe 
for  my  book  of  birds — the  three  hundredth  name  given 
to  me.  In  the  course  of  my  intimacy  with  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Hopkins  I  was  brought  to  think  more  than  I  usually  did 
of  religious  matters;  but  I  confess  I  never  think  of 
churches  without  feeling  sick  at  heart  at  the  sham  and 
show  of  some  of  their  professors.  To  repay  evils  with 
kindness  is  the  religion  I  was  taught  to  practise,  and  this 
will  for  ever  be  my  rule. 

"  October  24.  For  some  days  I  have  been  meditating 
on  purchasing  a  skiff  and  going  down  the  Ohio  and  Mis- 
sissippi in  it,  as  I  had  done  years  before.  I  purchased  a 
boat,  and  filling  it  with  provisions,  bade  my  friends  adieu, 
and  started  in  company  with  an  artist,  a  doctor,  and  an 
Irishman.  I  hauled  up  the  boat  at  night  and  slept 
m  it. 

"  October  29.  Reached  Wheeling  after  suffering  much 
from  wet  and  rain.  The  artist  and  doctor  were  disgusted 
with  boating,  and  left.  The  Irishman  was  tired  of  his 
bargain.  My  finances  were  very  low.  I  tried  to  sell 
some  lithographs  of  General  Lafayette,  but  did  not  suc- 
ceed. I  sold  my  skiff,  and  took  passage  in  a  keel-boat 
to  Cincinnati,  with  a  lot  of  passengers,  army  officers,  and 
others.  I  arrived  at  Cincinnati,  visited  my  old  hcuse^ 
and  met  many  old  friends  in  that  city. 


114 


Life  of  Audubon, 


M 


m 


"  While  at  Cincinnati  I  was  beset  by  claims  for  thfl 
payment  of  articles  which  years  before  had  been  ordered 
for  the  Museum,  but  from  which  I  got  no  benefit.  With- 
out money  or  the  means  of  making  it,  I  applied  to  Messrs. 
Keating  and  Bell  for  the  loan  of  fifteen  dollars,  but  had 
not  the  courage  to  do  so  until  I  had  walked  past  their 
house  several  times,  unable  to  make  up  my  mind  how  to 
ask  the  favor.  I  got  the  loan  cheerfully,  and  took  a 
deck-passage  to  Louisville.  I  was  allowed  to  take  my 
meals  in  the  cabin,  and  at  night  slept  among  some 
shavings  I  managed  to  scrape  together.  The  spirit  of 
contentment  which  I  now  feel  is  strange,  it  borders  on 
the  sublime  ;  and,  enthusiast  or  lunatic,  as  some  of  my 
relatives  will  have  me,  I  am  glad  to  possess  such  a 
spirit. 

^^  Louisville^  November  20.  Took  lodgings  at  the 
house  of  a  person  to  whom  I  had  given  lessons,  and 
hastened  to  Shippingport  to  see  my  son  Victor.  Re- 
ceived a  letter  from  General  Jackson,  with  an  introduc- 
tion to  the  Governor  of  Florida.  I  discover  that  my 
friends  think  only  of  my  apparel,  and  those  upon  whom 
I  have  conferred  acts  of  kindness  prefer  to  remind  me 
of  my  errors.  I  decide  to  go  down  the  Mississippi  to 
my  old  home  of  Bayou  Sara,  and  there  open  a  school, 
with  the  profit?  of  which  to  complete  my  ornithological 
studies.     Engage  a  passage  for  eight  dollars. 

"  I  arrived  at  Bayou  Sara  with  rent  and  wasted  clothes 
and  uncut  hair,  and  altogether  looking  like  the  Wander- 
ing Jew. 

"  The  steamer  which  brought  me  was  on  her  way  to 
New  Orleans,  and  I  was  put  ashore  in  a  small  boat  about 
midnight,  and  left  to  grope  my  way  on  a  dark,  rainy,  and 
sultry  night  to  the  village,  about  one  mile  distant.  That 
awful  scourge  the  yellow  fever  prevailed,  and  was  taking 
off  the  citizens  with  greater  rapidity  than  had  ever  before 


Return  to  Bayou  Sara. 


1^5 


been  known.  When  I  arrived,  the  desolation  was  so  great 
that  one  large  hotel  was  deserted,  and  I  walked  in,  find- 
ing the  doors  all  open,  and  the  furniture  in  the  house,  but 
not  a  living  person.  The  inmates  had  all  gone  to  the 
pine  woods.  I  walked  to  the  post-office,  roused  the  post- 
master, and  learned  to  my  joy  th  it  my  wife  and  son  were 
well  at  Mrs.  Percy's.  He  had  no  accommodation  for  me, 
but  recommended  me  to  a  tavern  where  I  might  find  a 
bed.  The  atmosphere  was  calm,  heavy,  and  suffocating, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  were  breathing  death  while 
hunting  for  this  tavern ;  finding  it,  the  landlord  told  me 
he  had  not  a  spare  bed,  but  mentioned  a  German  at  the 
end  of  the  village  who  might  take  me  in ;  I  walked  over 
there,  and  was  kindly  received.  The  German  was  a  man 
of  cultivation  and  taste,  and  a  lover  of  natural  science, 
and  had  collected  a  variety  of  interesting  objects.  He 
gave  me  some  refreshment,  and  offered  me  a  horse  to 
ride  to  Mrs.  Percy's.  The  horse  was  soon  at  the  door, 
and  with  many  thanks  I  bade  him  adieu.  My  anxiety  to 
reach  my  beloved  wife  and  child  was  so  great  that  I 
resolved  to  make  a  straight  course  through  the  woods, 
which  I  thought  I  knew  thoroughly,  and  hardly  caring 
where  I  should  cross  the  bayou.  In  less  than  two  hours 
I  reached  its  shores,  but  the  horse  refused  to  enter  the 
water,  and  snorting  suddenly,  turned  and  made  off 
through  the  woods,  as  if  desirous  of  crossing  at  some 
other  place,  and  when  he  reached  the  shore  again  walked 
in,  and  crossed  me  safely  to  the  other  side.  The  sky 
was  overcast,  and  the  mosquitoes  plentiful ;  but  I  thought 
I  recognized  the  spot  where  I  had  watched  the  habits  of 
a  wild  cat,  or  a  deer,  as  the  clouds  broke  away,  and  the 
stars  now  and  then  peeped  through  to  help  me  make  my 
way  through  the  gloomy  forests.  But  in  this  I  was  mis- 
taken, for  when  day  dawned  I  found  myself  in  woods 
which  were  unknown  to  me.      However,  I  chanced  to 


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ii6 


Life  of  Audubon, 


meet  a  black  man,  who  told  me  where  I  was,  and  that  1 
had  passed  Mrs.  Percy's  plantation  two  miles.  Turning 
my  horse's  head,  and  putting  spurs  to  him,  a  brisk  gallop 
soon  brought  me  to  the  house.  It  was  early,  but  I  found 
my  beloved  wife  up  and  engaged  in  giving  a  lesson  to  her 
pupils,  and,  holding  and  kissing  her,  I  was  once  more 
happy,  and  all  my  toils  and  trials  were  forgotten. 

"  December  i.  After  a  few  days'  rest  I  began  to  think 
of  the  future,  and  to  look  about  to  see  what  I  could  do 
to  hasten  the  publication  of  my  drawings.  My  wife  was 
receiving  a  large  income, — nearly  three  thousand  dollars 
a  year, — from  her  industry  and  talents,  which  she  gener- 
ously offered  me  to  help  forward  their  publication ;  and  I 
resolved  on  a  new  effort  to  increase  the  amount  by  my 
own  energy  and  labor.  Numerous  pupils  desired  les- 
sons in  music,  French,  and  drawing.  From  Woodville 
I  received  a  special  invitation  to  teach  dancing,  and  a 
class  of  sixty  was  soon  organized.  I  went  to  begin  my 
duties,  dressed  myself  at  the  hotel,  and  with  my  fiddle 
under  my  arm  entered  the  ball-room.  I  found  my 
music  highly  appreciated,  and  immediately  commenced 
proceedings. 

"  I  placed  all  the  gentlemen  in  a  line  reaching  across 
the  hall,  thinking  to  give  the  young  ladies  time  to  com- 
pose themselves  and  get  ready  when  they  were  called. 
How  I  toiled  before  I  could  get  one  graceful  step  or 
motion  1  I  broke  my  bow  and  nearly  my  violin  in  my 
excitement  and  impatience  1  The  gentlemen  were  soon 
fatigued.  The  ladies  were  next  placed  in  the  same  order 
and  made  to  walk  the  steps  j  and  then  came  the  trial  for 
both  parties  to  proceed  at  the  same  time,  while  I  pushed 
one  here  and  another  there,  and  was  all  the  while  singing 
myself,  to  assist  their  movements.  Many  of  the  parents 
were  present,  and  were  delighted.  After  this  first  lesson 
was  over  I  was  requested  to  dance  to  my  aum  music^  which 


A  novel  Speculation, 


117 


I  did  until  the  whole  room  came  down  in  thunders  of 
applause,  in  clapping  of  hands  and  shouting,  which  put 
an  end  to  my  first  lesson  and  to  an  amusing  comedy 
Lessons  in  fencing  followed  to  the  young  gentlemen,  and 
I  went  to  bed  extremely  fatigued. 

"  The  dancing  speculation  fetched  two  thousand  dol- 
lars ;  and  with  this  capital  and  my  wife's  savings  I  was 
now  able  to  foresee  a  successful  issue  io  my  great  ornitho- 
logical work." 

The  remainder  of  Audubon's  residence  at  Bayou  Sara 
was  taken  up  with  preparations  for  his  intended  voyage 
to  England,— where  he  expected  to  find  the  fame  given 
to  all  heroes  so  tardily  in  their  own  countries. 


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CHAPTER  IX.' 

Audubon  Sails  from  New  Orleans  for  England  on  board  the  DeloS'-^- 
JncidetUs  of  the  Voyage  —  Arixi'al  at  Lhierfool  —  Liverpoot 
Friends  —  Drawings  Exhibited  by  desire  in  the  Royal  Institution 
—  Visit  to  Manchester —  Opening  of  Subscription-book  for  great 
Work— Edinburgh — Drawings  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Institu- 
tion. 

\PRIL  26th J  1826.  I  left  my  wife  and  son  at 
Bayou  Sara  for  New  Orleans  on  my  way  to 
England,  and  engaged  a  passage  to  Liverpool 
on  board  the  ship  Delos.  The  vessel  did  not  sail  as 
Foon  as  expected,  and  I  was  necessarily  delayed  at  New 
Orleans.  I  obtained  several  letters  of  introduction  from 
persons  in  New  Orleans  to  friends  in  England,  and  one 
from  Governor  Johnson  of  Louisiana  with  the  seal  of 
the  State  on  it,  which  saved  me  the  trouble  of  getting  a 
passport. 

"  On  the  19th  of  May  the  steam-tug  Hercules  towed 
the  Delos  out  to  sea,  and  with  light  winds  we  pursued 
our  voyage.  The  time  was  pleasantly  spent  shooting 
birds  and  catching  dolphins  and  sharks,  from  which  I 
made  frequent  sketches. 

^^  May  21.  Had  Mothei  Carey's  chickens  following 
us,  and  desired  to  get  one  of  the  beautiful  birds  as  they 
swept  past,  pattering  the  water  with  their  feet,  and 
returning  after  long  ranges  for  scraps  of  oil  and  fat 
floated  astern.  I  dropped  one  with  my  gun,  and  the 
captain  kindly  ordered  a  boat  to  be  lowered  to  recover 
the  shot  bird.  I  examined  the  bird  and  found  it  to  be  a 
female. 


Sails  for  England. 


115 


**  May  ^1.  Saw  a  small  vessel  making  towards  usj 
she  was  a  suspicious-looking  craft,  and  our  crew  had 
pardonable  fears  she  might  prove  to  be  a  pirate.  A 
young  fat  alligator  I  had  with  me  died  to-day,  from  being 
pk  jed  in  salt  instead  of  fresh  water — the  former  being 
poisonous  to  the  animal. 

"  Much  troubled  with  anxious  thoughts  about  the  pur- 
port and  expectations  of  my  voyage  to  England.  I  had 
obtained  many  favorable  letters  of  introduction  to  friends 
in  England,  which  I  believed  would  prove  of  material 
assistance,  and  among  these  was  the  following  : — 

**  'New  Orleans,  May  16,  1826. 

"  *  Dear  Sir, 

" '  I  have  ventured  to  put  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  John  J. 
Audubon,  a  gentleman  of  highly  respectable  scientific  ac- 
quirements, these  introductory  lines  to  you,  under  the 
persuasion  that  his  acquaintance  cannot  fail  to  be  one  of 
extreme  interest  to  you.  Mr.  Audubon  is  a  native  of  the 
United  States,  and  has  spent  more  than  twenty  years  in 
all  parts  of  them,  devoting  most  of  his  time  to  the  study 
of  ornithology.  He  carries  with  him  a  collection  of  over 
four  hundred  drawings,  which  far  surpass  anything  of  the 
kind  I  have  yet  seen,  and  afford  the  best  evidence  of  his 
skill,  and  the  perfection  to  which  he  has  carried  his  re- 
searches. His  object  is  to  find  a  purchaser  or  a  publish- 
er for  them,  and  if  you  can  aid  him  in  this,  and  introduce 
him  either  in  person  or  by  letter  to  men  of  distinction  in 
arts  and  sciences,  you  will  confer  much  of  a  favor  on  me. 
He  has  a  crowd  of  letters  from  Mr.  Clay,  De  Witt  Clinton, 
and  others  for  England,  which  will  do  much  for  him  ;  but 
your  introduction  to  Mr.  Roscoe  and  others  may  do 
more.  His  collecilon  of  ornithological  drawings  would 
prove  a  most  valuable  acquisition  to  any  museum,  or  any 
moneyed  patron  of  the  arts,  and,  I  should  think,  convey  a 


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1 20 


Life  of  Audubon, 


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far  bettiir  idea  of  American  birds  than  all  the  stuffed 

birds  of  all  the  museums  put  together. 

"  *  Permit  me  likewise  to  recommend  Mr.  Audubon  to 

your  hospitable  attentions ;  the  respectability  of  his  life 

and  his  family  connections  entitle  him  to  the  good  wishes 

of  any  gentleman,  and  you  will  derive  much  gratification 

from  his  conversation. 

"  *  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"*  With  sincere  regard, 

"  *  Most  truly  yours, 

"  *  Vincent  Nolte. 
•*  *  To  Richard  Rathbone,  Esq., 
"•Liverpool.'** 

"  y^une  23.  Near  Cape  Florida.  This  morning  we 
entered  the  Atlantic  Ocean  from  the  Florida  Straits  with 
a  fair  wind.  The  land  birds  have  left  us.  I  leave 
America  and  my  wife  and  children  to  visit  England  and 
Europe  and  publish  my  '  Birds  of  America.' 

"  In  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  our  vessel  was  becalmed  for 
many  days ;  the  tedium  of  which  we  beguiled  by  catch- 
ing fish  and  watching  their  habits.  Among  the  others 
caught  we  were  fortunate  in  securing  several  beautiful 
dolphins.  Dolphins  move  in  shoals  varying  from  four  or 
five  to  twenty  or  more,  hunting  in  packs  in  the  waters  as 
wolves  pursue  their  p^ey  on  land.  The  object  of  their 
pursuit  is  generally  t  .0  flying-fish,  now  and  then  the 
bonita ;  and  when  nothing  better  can  be  had  they  will 
follow  the  little  rudder-fish  and  seize  it  immediately  under 
the  stem  of  the  ship.  The  flying-fishes,  after  having  es- 
caped for  awhile  by  dint  of  their  great  velocity,  on  being 
again  approached  by  the  dolphins,  emerge  from  the  water, 
and  spreading  their  broad  wing-like  f^ns,  sail  through  the 
air  and  disperse  in  all  directions,  like  a  covey  of  timid 
partridges  before  the  rapacious  falcon.  Some  pursue  a 
direct  course,  others  diverge  on  either  side,  but  in  a  short 


Dolphin  Fishing, 


111 


id 
a 


time  they  all  drop  into  their  natural  element.  While 
they  are  travelling  in  the  air  their  keen  and  hungry  pur 
suer,  like  a  greyhound,  follows  in  their  wake,  and  per- 
forming a  succession  of  leaps  many  feet  in  extent,  rapidly 
gains  upon  the  quarry,  which  is  often  seized  just  as  it 
fiUls  into  the  sea.  Dolphins  manifest  a  very  remarkable 
sympathy  with  each  other.  The  moment  oi^  of  them  is 
hooked  or  grained,  as  sailors  technically  name  their  man- 
ner of  harpooning,  those  in  company  make,  up  to  it,  and 
remain  around  until  the  unfortunate  fish  is  pulled  on 
board,  when  they  generally  move  off  together,  seldom 
biting  at  anything  thrown  out  to  them.  This,  however, 
is  the  ca^e  only  with  the  larger  individuals,  which  keep 
apart  from  the  young,  in  the  same  manner  as  is  observed 
in  several  species  of  birds  j  for  when  the  smaller  dol 
phins  are  in  large  shoals  they  all  remain  under  the  bows 
of  the  ship,  and  bite  in  succession  at  any  sort  of  line,  as 
if  determined  to  see  what  has  become  of  their  lost  com- 
panions. The  dolphins  caught  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
during  our  voyage  were  suspected  to  be  poisonous ;  and 
to  ascertain  whether  this  was  really  the  case,  our  cook, 
who  was  an  African  negro,  never  boiled  or  fried  one  with- 
out placing  beside  it  a  dollar.  If  the  silver  was  not  tar- 
nished by  the  time  the  dolphin  was  ready  for  the  table, 
the  fish  was  presented  to  the  passengers  with  the  as- 
surance that  it  was  perfectly  good.  But  as  not  a  single 
individual  of  the  hundred  that  we  caught  had  the  prop- 
erty of  converting  silver  into  copper,  I  suspect  that  our 
African  sage  was  no  magician.  One  morning,  that  of 
the  22nd  of  June,  the  weather  sultry,  I  was  surprised,  on 
getting  out  of  my  hammock,  which  was  slung  on  deck,  to 
find  the  water  all  round  swarming  with  dolphins,  which 
were  sporting  in  great  glee.  The  sailors  assured  me  that 
this  was  a  certain  'token  of  wind,'  and,  as  they  watched 


I, 


-'I 


the  movement  of  the  fishes,  added, 
6 


ay,  and  a  fair  breeze 


1^2 


Life  of  Audubon, 


1 1 


i. 


too.'  I  caught  several  dolphins  in  the  course  of  an  hour, 
after  which  scarcely  an)'  remained  about  the  ship.  Not  a 
breath  of  air  came  to  our  relief  all  that  day,  nor  even  the 
next. 

"  The  best  bait  for  the  dolphin  is  a  long  strip  of  shark's 
flesh.  I  think  it  generally  prefers  it  to  the  semblance  of 
a  flying-fish,  which,  indeed,  it  does  not  often  seize  unlesa 
when  the  ship  is  under  weigh,  and  it  is  made  to  rise  to 
the  surface.  There  are  times,  however,  when  hunger  and 
the  absence  of  their  usual  food  will  induce  the  dolphins 
to  dash  at  any  sort  of  bait ;  and  I  have  seen  some  caught 
by  means  of  a  piece  of  white  linen  fastened  to  a  hook. 
Their  appetite  is  as  keen  as  that  of  the  vulture  ;  and 
whenever  a  good  opportunity  occurs  they  gorge  them- 
selves to  such  a  degree  that  they  become  an  easy  prey  to 
their  enemies,  the  balacoida  and  the  bottle-nosed  porpoise. 
One  that  had  been  braintd  while  lazily  swimming  imme- 
diately under  th3  stern  of  our  ship  was  found  to  have  its 
stomach  completely  crammed  with  flying-fish,  all  regular- 
ly disposed  side  by  side,  with  their  tails  downwards, 
which  suggests  that  the  dolphin  swallows  its  prey  tail  fore- 
most. They  looked,  in  fact,  like  so  many  salted  herrings 
packed  in  a  box,  and  were,  to  the  number  of  twenty-two, 
each  six  and  seven  inches  in  length.  The  usual  length 
of  the  dolphin  caught  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  is  about 
three  feet,  and  I  saw  none  that  exceeded  four  feet  two 
inches.  The  weight  of  one  of  the  latter  size  was  only 
eighteen  pounds,  for  this  fish  is  extremely  narrow  in 
proportion  to  its  length,  although  rather  deep  in  ith 
form.  AVhen  just  caught,  the  upper  fin,  which  reaches 
from  the  forehead  to  within  a  short  distance  of  the  tail, 
is  of  a  fine  dark  blue.  The  upper  part  of  the  body  in 
its  whole  length  is  azure,  and  the  lower  parts  are  of  a 
golden' hue,  nioitled  irregularly  with  deep  blue  spots. 

"  One  day  several  small  birds,  after  alighting  on  the 


i 


Shark  Fishing. 


12 


spars,  betook  themselves  to  the  deck.  One  of  them,  a 
female  rice  bunting,  drew  our  attention  more  particularly, 
for,  a  few  moments  after  her  arrival,  there  came  down,  as 
if  it  were  in  her  wake,  a  beautiful  peregrine  falcon.  The 
plunderer  hovered  about  for  awhile,  then  stationed  him- 
self on  the  end  of  one  of  the  yard-arms,  and  suddenly 
pouncing  on  the  little  gleaner  of  the  meadows,  clutched 
her  and  carried  her  off  in  exultation.  I  was  astonished 
to  see  *he  falcon  feeding  on  the  finch  while  on  the  wing 
with  the  same  ease  as  the  Mississippi  kite  shows  while 
devouring,  high  in  air,  a  red-throated  lizard,  swept  from 
one  of  the  trees  of  the  Louisiana  woods. 

"  One  afternoon  we  caught  two  sharks.  In  one  of 
them  we  found  ten  young  ones  alive,  and  quite  capable 
of  swimming,  as  we  proved  by  experiment ;  for  on  casting 
one  of  them  into  the  sea  it  immediately  made  off,  as  if  it 
had  been  accustomed  to  shift  for  itself.  Of  another  that 
had  been  cut  in  two,  the  head  half  swam  out  of  our  sight 
The  rest  were  cut  in  pieces,  as  was  the  old  shark,  as  bait 
for  the  dolphins,  which,  I  have  already  said,  are  fond  of 
such  food.  Our  captain,  who  was  much  intent  on  amus- 
ing me,  informed  me  that  the  rudder-fishes  were  plentiful 
astern,  and  immediately  set  to  dressing  hooks  for  the  pur- 
pose of  catching  them.  There  was  now  some  air  above 
us,  the  sails  aloft  filled,  the  ship  moved  through  the 
water,  and  the  captain  and  I  repaired  to  the  cabin  win- 
dow. I  was  furnished  with  a  fine  hook,  a  thread  line, 
and  some  small  bits  of  bacon,  as  was  the  captain,  and  we 
dropped  our  bait  among  the  myriads  of  delicate  little 
fishes  below.  Up  they  came  one  after  another,  so  fast  in 
succession  that,  according  to  my  journal,  we  caught  three 
hundred  and  seventy  in  about  two  hours  !  What  a  mess ! 
and  how  delicious  when  roasted !  if  ever  I  am  again  be- 
calmed in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  I  shall  not  forget  the  rud- 
der-fish.    The  little  things  scarcely  measured  three  inches 


lifi 


I' 


:h- 


,fv 


■  ^  _ 


124 


Life  of  Audubon. 


in  length  ;  they  were  thin  and  deep  in  form,  and  afforded 
excellent  eating.  It  was  curious  to  see  them  keep  to  the 
lee  of  the  rudder  in  a  compact  body,  and  so  voracioui 
were  they,  that  they  actually  leaped  out  of  the  water  at 
the  sight  of  the  bait.  But  the  very  instant  that  the  ship 
became  still  they  dispersed  around  her  sides,  and  would 
no  longer  bite.  After  drifting  along  the  Florida  coast  a 
stiff  breeze  rose,  and  sweeping  us  into  the  Atlantic,  sent 
us  fai  upon  our  favorable  voyage. 

"  yuly  20,  1826.  Landed  from  the  Delos  at  Liverpool, 
anil  took  lodgings  at  the  Commercial  Hotel.  Called  at 
the  counting-house  of  Gordon  and  Forstall,  and  went  to 
deliver  my  letters  to  Mr.  Rathbone,  who  was  absent  when 
I  called  j  but  he  forwarded  a  polite  note,  in  which  he  in- 
vited me  to  dine  and  meet  Mr.  Roscoe. 

"  y^uiy  24.  Called  for  Mr.  Rathbone  at  his  counting 
house,  and  was  kindly  received,  and  dined  at  his  house 
in  Duke  Street.  Was  introduced  to  his  friend  Mr.  Ros- 
coe, and  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Philemon  L.  Baring.  Mr. 
Roscoe  invited  me  to  his  country-house  next  day,  and  we 
visited  the  Botanical  Gardens.  Ransacked  the  city  for 
pastils  to  make  a  drawing  for  Mrs.  Rathbone. 

"  My  drawings  are  to  be  exhibited  at  the  Liverpool 
Exhibition.  Mr.  Roscoe  promised  to  introduce  me  to 
Lord  Stanley,  who,  he  says,  is  rather  shy.  Great  anxiety 
about  the  success  of  my  exhibition,  wbicli  has  proved  a 
complete  success. 

"  Sunday,  July  30.  Went  to  church,  and  saw  a  pic- 
ture of  Christ  Curing  the  Blind  Man,  and  listened  to  the 
singing  of  the  blind  musicians. 

^'^  August  5.  I  have  met  Lord  Stanley,  and  found 
him  a  frank,  agreeable  man.  Tall,  broad-boned,  well- 
formed,  he  reminded  me  of  Sully  the  painter.  He  said, 
*  Sir,  I  am  glad  to  see  you.'  He  pointed  out  one  defect 
in  my  drawings,  for  which  I  thanked  him,  but  he  admired 


Arrival  ai  Liverpool, 


12^ 


them  generally.  He  spent  five  hours  in  examining  my 
collection,  and  said,  *  This  work  is  unique,  and  deserves 
the  patronage  of  the  Crown.*  He  invited  me  many 
times  to  come  and  see  him  at  his  town  house  in  Gros- 
venor  Square." 

Under  this  date,  Audubon  writes  to  his  wife  :  "  I  jun 
cherished  by  the  most  notable  people  in  and  around 
Liverpool,  and  have  obtained  letters  of  introduction  to 
Baron  Humboldt,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Sir  Humphry  Davy, 
Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  Hannah  More,  Miss  Edgeworth, 
and  your  distinguished  cousin,  Robert  Bakewell." 

^^  August  9.  By  the  persuasion  of  friends,  the  entrance- 
fee  to  my  collection  of  drawings  is  to  be  charged  at  one 
shilling.  Three  and  four  pounds  per  day  promised  well 
for  the  success  of  this  proposal.  Painted  a  wild  turkey, 
full  size,  for  the  Liverpool  Royal  Institution.  Busy  at 
work  painting  in  my  usual  toilet,  with  bare  neck  and 
bare  arms.  Dr.  Traill  and  Mr.  Rathbone,  while  looking 
on,  were  astonished  at  the  speed  of  my  work. 

"  At  Liverpool  I  did  the  portraits  of  various  friends 
desirous  of  obtaining  specimens  of  my  drawing,  and  Mr. 
Rathbone  suggested  that  I  ought  to  do  a  large  picture,  in 
order  that  the  public  might  have  an  opportunity  of  judg- 
ing of  my  particular  talents.  From  various  kind  friends 
I  received  letters  of  introduction  to  many  distinguished 
persons.  Mr.  Roscoe,  in  particular,  favored  me  with  an 
extremely  kind  letter  to  Miss  Edgeworth  the  novelist,  in 
which  he  makes  reference  to  my  pursuits  and  acquire- 
ments in  flattering  language." 

Audubon  has  copied  into  his  journal  many  of  these 
letters,  but  the  interest  of  them  is  not  of  sufficient  import 
to  warrant  their  reproduction. 

By  the  exhibition  of  his  pictures  at  the  Royal  Insti- 
tution, Liverpool,  he  realized  100/. ;  but  he  speedily 
removed  to  Manchester,  and  carried  with  him  his  coUec 


I' I 


•*flr 


m 


i^ 


126 


Life  of  Audubon, 


r    :   ' 


tion  of  drawings  'or  exhibition  in  that  city.  "  Dr.  Traili, 
of  the  Royal  Institution,  had  ordered  all  ray  drawings  to 
be  packed  up  by  the  curator  of  the  museum,  and  theii 
transport  gave  me  no  trouble  whatever. 

"  September  10.  I  left  Liverpool  and  the  many  kind 
friends  I  had  made  in  it.  In  five  and  a  half  hours  the 
coach  arrived  at  Manchester.  I  took  lodgings  in  the 
King's  Arms.  I  strolled  about  the  city,  and  it  seemed 
to  me  to  be  most  miserably  laid  out.  I  was  struck  by  the 
sallow  looks,  sad  faces,  ragged  garments,  and  poverty  of  a 
large  portion  of  the  population,  which  seemed  worse  off 
than  the  negroes  of  Louisiana.  I  exhibited  my  pictures 
in  a  gallery  at  Manchester  at  one  shilling  for  entrance, 
but  the  result  was  not  satisfactory." 

At  Manchester  Audubon  made  the  acquaintance  of 
two  very  valuable  friends — Mr.  Gregg  and  Mr.  McMurray. 
He  visited  many  families,  and  was  struck  with  the  patri- 
archal manner  of  an  Englishman  who  called  his  son  "  my 
love."  He  enjoyed  for  the  first  time  a  day's  shooting 
after  the  English  fashion  in  the  neighborhood  of  Man- 
chester, but  does  not  appear  to  have  been  charmed  with 
the  sport.  It  was  soon  discovered  that  the  exhibition  of 
his  drawings  at  Manchester  was  not  going  to  pay;  but 
he  opened  a  subscription  book  for  the  publication  of  his 
work  on  the  birds  of  America. 

'^  September  28.  Revisited  Liverpool  to  consult  about 
a  prospectus  for  my  book.  Stayed  with  Mr.  Rathbone, 
and  met  there  Mr.  John  Bohn,  the  London  bookseller, 
who  advised  me  to  go  to  Paris  and  consult  about  cost  of 
publication,  after  which  I  ought  to  go  to  London  and 
compare  the  outlays  before  fixing  upon  any  plan.  Mrs. 
Rathbone  desired  me  to  draw  the  wild  turkey  of  America 
the  size  of  my  thumb-nail.  This  she  had  engraved  on  a 
precious  stone  in  the  form  of  a  seal,  and  presented  it 
to  me. 


.lij 


Ai  Manchester, 


ii'f 


*  October  6.  I  returned  to  Manchester,  driven  in  th« 
carriage  of  a  friend,  and  arrived  at  the  hall  in  which  mj 
pictures  were  exhibited,  to  find  that  the  hall-keeper  had 
been  drunk  and  had  no  returns  to  make.  I  stayed  abou 
six  weeks  at  Manchester,  but  the  exhibition  of  my  pictures 
did  not  prosper.  I  visited  Matlock,  and  paid  five  pounds 
for  spars  to  take  home  to  my  wife.  I  pulled  some  flowers 
from  the  hills  she  had  played  over  when  a  child,  and 
passed  through  the  village  of  Bakewell,  called  after  some 
one  of  her  family. 

"  I  determined  to  start  for  Edinburgh,  and  paying 
three  pounds  fifteen  shillings  for  coach-hire,  started  for 
tliat  city. 

"  October  25.  Left  Manchester  for  Edinburgh  yester- 
day, following  the  road  by  Carlisle  into  Scotland.  Was 
struck  with  the  bleak  appearance  of  the  country.  The 
Scottish  shepherds  looked  like  the  poor  mean  whites  of 
the  Slave-states.  The  coachmen  have  a  mean  practice 
of  asking  money  from  the  passengers  after  every  stage. 
Arrived  at  Edinburgh,  and  called  with  letters  of  intro 
duction  on  Professor  Jameson  and  Professor  Duncan — 
on  Dr.  Charles  and  Dr.  Henry  at  the  Infirmary,  and 
upon  tlie  celebrated  anatomist  Dr.  Knox.  Professor 
Jameson  received  me  with  the  greatest  coldness — ex- 
plained there  was  no  chance  of  my  seeiiig  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
who  was  busy  with  a  life  of  Napoleon  and  a  novel,  and 
who  lived  the  life  of  a  recluse.  He  said  his  own  engage- 
ments would  prevent  his  calling  for  some  days. 

"  Dr.  Knox  came  to  me  in  his  rooms  dressed  in  an 
overgown,  and  with  bleeding  hands,  which  he  wiped. 
He  read  Dr.  Traill's  letter  and  wished  me  success,  and 
promised  to  do  all  in  his  power  for  me,  and  appointed 
the  next  day  to  call  upon  me  and  introduce  some  scien- 
tific friends  to  examine  my  drawings.  I  was  much  struck 
with  Edinburgh — it  is  a  splendid  old  city. 


128 


Life  of  Audubon. 


■\    I 


i 


m 


"  The  lower  class  of  women  (fishwives)  resemble  the 
squaws  of  the  West  Their  rolling  gait,  inturned  toes, 
and  manner  of  carrying  burdens  on  their  backs,  is  exactly 
that  of  the  Sliawnee  women.  Their  complexions  are 
either  fair,  purple,  or  brown  as  a  mulatto. 

"  The  men  wear  long  whiskers  and  beards,  and  are 
extremely  uncouth  in  manners  as  vvell  as  in  speech. 

"  October  27.  Filled  with  sad  forebodings  and  doubts 
of  all  progress.  Miss  Ewart  called  to  see  my  drawings, 
and  was  delighted  with  them.  She  exclaimed,  after 
looking,  at  them.  *  Mow  delighted  Sir  Walter  Scott 
would  be  with  them  I '  I  presented  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Patrick  Neil,  the  printer,  who  received  me  with  great 
cordiality,  invited  me  to  his  house,  anil  promised  to 
interest  himself  for  me  generally  Mr.  Andrew  Duncan 
gave  me  a  note  to  Francis  JetVrey,  the  famous  editor  of 
the  *  Edinburgh  Review.' 

"  October  30.  Called  on  Mr-  Francis  Jeftrey,  who  was 
not  at  home  ;  wrote  a  note  for  him  in  his  library,  which 
I  tbund  was  filled  with  books  tossed  about  in  confusion, 
i)amphlets,  portfolios,  and  tlirt. 

"  Prospects  more  dull  and  unpromising  ;  and  I  went 
to  Mr.  Patrick  Neil,  to  express  my  intention  of  going  on 
to  Lonilon,  as  my  pictures  of  the  American  Birds  were 
evidently  not  appreciated  in  Edinburgh.  He  remonstrat- 
ed kindly,  spoke  encouragingly,  anil  introduced  me  to 
Mr.  Li/ars,  the  engraver  of  Mr.  Selby's  Birds. 

'*  Mr.  Lizars  had  the  greatest  admiration  for  Selby, 
but  no  sooner  had  he  looked  into  my  portfolio  than  he 
exclaimed,  '  My  God,  I  never  s;iw  any  thing  like  these 
before ; '  and  he  afterwartls  said  tlie  naturalist,  Sir 
William  Jardine,  ought  to  see  them  immediately. 

"  Niwember  i.  Professor  J  imeson  has  called,  Mr. 
Lizars  having,  with  his  warmth  o  heart,  brought  the  natu- 
ralist to  see  my  collection  of  birds.     The  Professor  was 


Success  in  Edinburgh. 


129 


very  kind,  but  his  manner  of  speaking  of  my  drawings 
loaves  nie  to  suspect  that  he  may  have  bceu  quizzing  me. 

"  November  2.  Breakfasted  with  Professor  Jameson 
in  his  splenilid  house.  'I'he  Professor's  appe;uance  is 
somewhat  remarkable,  and  the  oddities  of  his  hair  are 
worthy  of  notice.  It  seems  to  stand  up  all  over  his 
head  and  points  In  various  directions,  so  that  it  loi>ks 
strange  ami  uncouth.  Around  a  rough  exterior  he  owns 
a  generous  heart,  but  which  is  not  at  first  iliscernible. 
I  felt  my  career  now  certahi.  1  was  spoken  kindly  of  by 
the  newspapers,  and  in  the  streets  1  hearil  such  remarks 
made  upon  me  as — 'Thai  is  the  French  nobleman.'  I 
spent  three  very  delightful  weeks,  dining,  breakfasting, 
anil  visiting  many  agreeable  people  in  Edinburgh.  Pro- 
fessor Jameson  promised  t  )  introduce  my  work  to  the 
public  in  his  "Natural  History  Magazine, '  and  Prol'essor 
Wilson  (Christopher  North)  otferctl  me  his  services  in  the 
pages  of '  Maga.' 

"  Prot'essor  Wilson  likewise  volunteered  to  introduce 
me  to  Sir  Walter  Soott,  and  Mr.  Combe,  the  phrenolo 
gist.  Mr.  Syme,  the  portrait  painter,  reciuesteil  me  to 
sit  for  my  portrait.  A  C(Mnniittee  fron\  the  Koyal  Insti- 
tution of  Kdinburgh  called  upon  me  and  oifered  me  the 
use  of  the  rooms  for  the  e.\hil)ition  of  mv  drawintrs,  and 
the  receipts  from  this  source  amounted  to  ^5  per  day. 

"  What,  lu>wever,  most  ple;ise(i  me  was  the  o^^r  of 
Mr.  Li/ars  to  bring  out  a  tirst  number  of  my  '  Pirds  of 
America,'  the  plates  to  be  the  si/e  of  life.  I  ha\e 
obtained  iVom  Mr.  Rathhone  his  name  as  a  subscriber, 
and  have  written  to  him  with  a  pri>spectiis,  and  explained 
that  I  shall  travel  about  with  a  specimen  number  until  I 
obtain  tlnee  luuulred  subscribers,  which  will  assure  the 
success  of  the  work.  Sir  William  Jardine,  now  in  the 
midst  of  his  extensive  virnithological  publication,  spends 
many  hours  a  day  besid**  me  examining  my  manner  of 
0* 


M 


il 

\i'i;l :  ■ 

4,    •  i 

'4? 


'SiS 


^ 


I 


Z' 


130 


Life  of  Auduoon, 


work,  and  he  has  invited  me  to  make  a  long  \\s\l  to  his 
residence  in  the  country. 

*^  November  28.  Saw  to-day  the  first  proof  of  the 
first  engraving  of  my  American  Birds,  and  was  very  well 
pleased  with  its  appearance. 

^^  November  29.  Sir  Walter  Scott  has  promised  a 
friend  to  come  and  see  my  drawings.  Invited  to  dine 
with  the  Antiquarian  Society  at  the  Waterloo  Hotel. 
Met  the  Earl  of  Elgin  at  the  dinner,  who  was  very  cor- 
dial. The  dinner  was  sumptuous,  the  first  course  being 
all  Scotch  dishes,  a  novelty  to  me,  and  consisting  of  mar- 
row-bones, codfish-heads  stuffed  with  oatmeal  and  garlick, 
blackpndding,  sheepsheads,  &c.  L^^d  Elgin  presided, 
and  after  dinner,  with  an  auctioneer's  mallet  brought  the 
company  to  order  by  rapping  sharply  on  the  table.  He 
then  rose  and  said,  '  The  King,  four-times-four !"  All 
rose  and  drank  the  monarch's  health,  the  president  say- 
ing, *  Ip  !  ip !  ip  ! '  followed  by  sixteen  cheers.  Mr. 
Skein,  first  secretary  to  the  Society,  drank  my  own 
health,  prefacing  the  toast  with  many  flatteries,  which 
made  me  feel  very  faint  and  chill  I  was  expected  to 
make  a  speech,  but  could  not,  and  never  had  tried 
Being  called  on  for  a  reply,  I  said,  'Gentlemen,  my 
incapacity  for  words  to  respond  to  your  fli\!iciing  notice 
is  hardly  exceeded  by  that  of  the  birds  new  ranging  on 
the  walls  of  your  institution.  I  am  truly  oblio;'  d  to  you 
for  your  favors,  and  can  only  say,  God  bless  you  all,  and 
may  your  Society  prosper.'  I  sat  down  with  the  perspi- 
ration running  over  me,  and  was  glad  to  drink  off  a  glass 
of  wine  that  Mr.  Lizars  kindly  handed  to  me  in  my  dis- 
tress. Some  Scottish  songs  were  sung;  and  William 
Allen,  the  famous  Scottish  painter,  concluded  the  fiin  by 
giving  a  droll  imitation  of  the  buzzing  of  a  bee  about  the 
room,  following  it  and  striking  at  it  with  his  handkerchief 
as  if  it  was  flying  Irom  him." 


^1: 


N 


ef 


N 


X 


Success  in  Edinburgh, 


V 


V  13  i 


"  November  30.  The  picture  representing  myself 
dressed  in  a  wolf-skin  coat  is  finished,  and  although  the 
likeness  is  not  good,  the  picture  will  be  hung  to-morrow 
in  the  Exhibition  room. 

"  December  i.  Lord  Elgin  and  another  nobleman 
visited  my  exhibition  to-day,  and  talked  with  me  about 
my  work  and  prospects.  Fifteen  pounds  were  drawn  at 
the  Exhibition  to-day. 

"  December  2.  Breakfasted  with  the  wonderful  David 
Bridges,  who  commenced  to  dust  his  furniture  with  his 
handkerchief.  I  hear  that  Professor  Wilson  has  been 
preparing  an  article  upon  me  and  my  ornithological 
labors  for  *  Blackwood's  Magazine.'  Dined  with  Dr. 
Brown,  a  very  amiable  man,  and  met  Professor  Jameson. 
Sir  James  Hall  and  Captain  Basil  Hall  have  called  upon 
me  to-day,  the  latter  making  inquiries  in  reference  to 
some  purpose  to  visit  the  United  States. 

"  December  3.  Nearly  finished  a  painting  of  the  Otter 
in  Trap,  which  Mr.  Lizars  and  Mr.  Syrae  thought  excel- 
lent. Dr.  Knox  has  kindly  promised  to  propose  my 
name  for  membership  of  the  Wernerian  Natural  History 
Society  of  Edinburgh. 

December  10.  My  success  in  Edinburgh  borders  on 
^he  miraculous.  My  book  is  to  be  published  in  numbers 
containing  four  birds  in  each  the  size  of  life,  in  a  style 
surpassing  anything  now  existing,  at  two  guineas  a  num- 
ber. The  engravings  are  truly  beautiful ;  some  of  them 
have  been  colored,  and  are  now  on  exhibition. 

"  December  12.  Called  on  Dr.  Brewster  and  read  him 
an  article  on  the  Carrion  Crow.  After  reading  the  paper 
I  was  introduced  to  Mrs.  Brewster,  a  charming  woman, 
whose  manner  put  me  at  entire  ease. 

"  December  16.  Received  a  note  from  Mr.  Rathbone, 
objecting  to  the  large  size  of  my  book,  which  he  suspected 
would  be  rather  against  its  popularity.    Went  to  the  Wer- 


Ifl 


u 


132 


Life  of  Auduhon. 


nerian  .^'ociety  to  show  my  drawings  of  the  Buzzard.  Pro 
fessor  Jameson  rose  and  pronou^ce'l  nuite  an  eulogy  upon 
my  labors,  and  the  Society  passed  a  vote  of  thanks  upon 
them.  Professor  Jameson  afterwards  proposed  me  as  an 
honorary  member  of  the  Society,  which  was  carried  by 
acclamation. 

"  Dined  with  Lady  Hunter,  mother-in-law  to  Captain 
Basil  Hall,  and  met  Lady  Mary  Clarke,  aged  eighty-two, 
who  was  acquainted  with  Generals  Wolfe  and  Montgom 
cry.  I  had  many  questions  put  to  me  upon  subjects  con- 
nected with  America  by  the  distinguished  guests  I  met 
at  the  house.  Captaii^  Basil  Hall  has  presented  me  with 
a  copy  of  his  work  upon  South  America,  accompanied  by 
a  complimentary  note. 

^^  December  17.  Busy  painting  two  cats  fighting  over  a 
squirrel.  Up  at  candle-light,  and  worked  at  the  cats  till 
nine  o'clock. 

"  December  19.  Went  to  breakfast  with  Sir  William  Jar- 
dine  and  Mr.  Selby  at  Barry's  Hotel.  I  was  sauntering 
along  the  streets,  thinking  of  the  beautiful  aspects  of  na- 
ture, meditating  on  the  power  of  the  great  Creator,  on 
the  beauty  and  majesty  of  his  works,  and  of  the  skill  he 
had  given  man  to  study  them,  when  the  whole  train  of 
my  thoughts  was  suddenly  arrested  by  a  ragged,  sickly- 
looking  beggar-boy.  His  face  told  of  hunger  and  hard- 
ship, and  I  gave  him  a  shilling  and  passed  on.  But 
turning  again,  the  child  was  looking  after  me,  and  I  beck- 
oned to  him  to  return.  Taking  him  back  to  my  lodg- 
ings, I  gave  him  all  the  garments  I  had  which  were  worn, 
added  five  shillings  more  in  money,  gave  him  my 
blessing,  and  sent  him  away  rejoicing,  and  feeling  myself 
as  if  God  had  smiled  on  me.  I  afterwards  breakfasted 
with  Sir  William,  and  gave  a  lesson  in  drawing  to  him  and 
to  Mr.  Selby. 

^^  December  20.     Breakfasted  with  Mr.  George  Combe, 


:  l!:. 


Costume. 


^33 


the  ph-iCnologist,  who  examined  my  head  and  afterwards 
measured  my  skull  with  the  accuracy  and  professionai 
manner  in  which  I  measured  the  heads,  bills,  and  claws  ol 
my  birds.  Among  other  talents,  he  said  I  possessed 
largely  the  faculties  which  would  enable  me  to  excel  in 
painting.  He  noted  down  his  observations  to  read  at 
the  Phrenological  Society. 

"  Received  an  invitation  from  the  Earl  of  Morton  to 
visit  him  at  his  seat  at  some  distance  from  Edinburgh." 

December  22.  From  the  entries  in  his  journal  under 
this  date  it  appears  he  had  written  to  his  wife  that  he  in- 
tended to  remove  to  Newcastle  or  Glasgow.  "  I  expect 
to  visit  the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  who  has  promised 
to  subscribe  for  my  work.  I  have  taken  to  dressing 
again,  and  now  dress  twice  a-day,  and  wear  silk  stockings 
and  pumps,  I  wear  my  hair  as  long  as  usual.  I  believe 
it  does  as  much  for  me  as  my  paintings.  One  hundred 
subscribers  for  my  book  will  pay  all  expenses.  Some 
persons  are  terrified  at  the  sum  of  one  hundred  and 
eighty  guineas  for  a  work  ;  but  this  amount  is  to  be 
spread  over  eight  years,  during  which  time  the  volumes 
will  be  gradually  completed.  I  am  fgted,  feasted,  elected 
honorary  member  of  societies,  making  money  by  my  ex- 
hibition and  by  my  paintings.  It  is  Mr.  Audubon  here 
and  Mr.  Audubon  there,  and  I  can  only  hope  that  Mr. 
Aududon  will  not  be  made  a  conceited  fool  at  last. 

'^^  December  23.  The  exhibition  of  my  birds  more 
crowded  than  ever.  This  day  I  summed  up  the  re- 
ceipts, and  they  amounted  to  eight  hundred  dollars.  I 
have  presented  my  painting  of  the  American  Turkeys  to 
the  Royal  Institution  for  the  use  of  their  rooms.  A  deal- 
er valued  the  picture  at  one  hundred  guineas. 

*^  December  2^,  Chi\sim3iS.  Bought  a  brooch  for  Mrs 
Audubon  Astonished  that  the  Scotch  have  no  relig 
ious  ceremony  on  Christmas  Day.      . 


a. 

111; !. 


n 


! 


H{i« 


HI 

m  1 


J*" 


134 


Life  of  Auduhon. 


^^  December  21 .  Went  to  Dalmahoy,  to  the  Earl  of 
Morton's  seat,  eight  miles  from  Edinburgh.  The  count- 
ess kindly  received  me,  and  introduced  me  to  the  earl,  a 
small  slender  man,  tottering  on  his  feet  and  weaker  than 
a  newly-hatched  partridge.  He  welcomed  me  with  tears 
in  his  eyes.  The  countess  is  about  forty,  not  handsome, 
but  fine-looking,  fair,  fresh-complexioned,  dark  flashing 
eyes,  superior  intellect  and  cultivation.  She  was  dressed 
in  a  rich  crimson  silk,  and  her  mother  in  heavy  black 
satin. 

"  My  bedroom  was  a  superb  parlor  with  yellow  furni- 
ture and  yellow  hangings.  After  completing  my  toilet, 
dinner  is  announced,  and  I  enter  the  dining-room,  where 
the  servants  in  livery  attend,  and  one  in  plain  clothes 
hands  about  the  plates  in  a  napkin,  so  that  his  hand  may 
not  touch  them.  In  the  morning  I  visited  the  stables, 
and  saw  four  splendid  Abyssinian  horses  with  tails  reach- 
ing to  the  ground.  I  saw  in  the  aviary  the  falcon-hawks 
used  of  old  for  hunting  with,  and  which  were  to  be 
brought  to  the  house  in  order  that  I  might  have  an  op- 
portunity of  witnessing  their  evolutions  and  flight.  The 
hawks  were  brought  with  bells  and  hoods  and  perched  on 
gloved  hands  as  in  the  days  of  chivalry.  The  countess 
wrote  her  name  in  my  subscription-book,  and  offered  to 
pay  the  price  in  advance. 

'''•December  31.  Dined  with  Captain  Basil  Hall,  and 
met  Francis  Jeffrey  and  Mr.  M'Culloch,  the  distinguished 
writer  on  political  economy,  a  plain,  simple,  and  amiable 
man.  Jeffrey  is  a  little  man,  with  a  serious  face  and  dig- 
nified air.  He  looks  both  shrewd  and  cunning,  and  talks 
with  so  much  volubility  he  is  rather  displeasing.  In  the 
course  of  the  evening  Jeffrey  seemed  to  discover  that  if 
he  was  Jeffrey  I  was  Audubon." 


; 


^^  I 


lui, 


CHAPTER  X, 

Edinburgh —  71u  Roycd  Society  —  ScoU — Edinburt^'h  People  ~^yd' 
ney  Smith  and  a  Sermon  —  Miss  O'Neill  the  Actress  — Mru, 
Grant  of  Laggan  —  Prospectus  of  the  Great  Work. 

EBRUARY  T,.  Dr.  Brewster  proposed  that  I 
should  exhibit  the  five  plates  of  my  first  number 
of  the  Birds  of  America  at  the  Royal  Society 
this  evening.  He  is  a  great  optician,  and  advises  me  tci 
get  a  camera-lucida,  so  as  to  take  the  outline  of  my  birds 
more  rapidly  and  correctly.  Such  an  instrument  would 
be  useful  in  saving  time,  and  a  great  relief  in  hot  weather, 
since  outlining  is  the  hardest  part  of  the  work,  and  more 
than  half  of  the  labor.  I  visited  the  Royal  Society  at 
eight  o'clock,  and  laid  my  large  sheets  on  the  table :  they 
were  examined  and  praised.  After  this  we  were  all  called 
into  the  great  room,  and  Captain  Hall  came  and  took  my 
hand  and  led  me  to  a  seat  immediately  opposite  to  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  the  President,  where  I  had  a  perfect  view 
of  this  great  man,  and  studied  nature  from  nature's 
noblest  work.  A  long  lecture  followed  on  the  introduc 
tion  of  the  Greek  language  into  England,  after  which  the 
President  rose,  and  all  others  followed  his  example.  Sir 
Walter  came  and  shook  hands  with  me,  asked  how  the 
cold  weather  of  Edinburgh  agreed  with  me,  and  so 
attracted  the  attention  of  many  members  to  me,  as  if  I 
had  been  a  distinguished  stranger. 

^^  February  lo.  Visited  the  Exhibition  at  the  Royal 
Institution.  Saw  the  picture  of  the  Black  Cocks,  which 
was  put  up  there  for  public  inspection.  I  know  that  the 
birds  are  composed  and  drawn  as  well  as  any  birds  ever 


•I 


y^i 


II     ■> 


136 


Life  of  Juduhon. 


have  been ,  but  what  a  difference  exists  between  the 
drawing  of  one  bird  and  the  composition  of  a  group, 
and  harmonizing  them  with  a  landscape  and  sky,  and 
well-adapted  foreground  I  Who  that  has  ever  tried  to 
combine  these  three  different  conceptions  in  a  single 
picture,  has  not  felt  a  sense  of  fear  while  engaged  in  his 
work  ?  I  looked  long  and  carefully  at  the  picture  of  a 
stag  painted  by  Landseer ; — the  style  was  good,  and  the 
brush  was  handled  with  fine  effect ;  but  he  fails  in  copy- 
ing Nature,  without  which  the  best  work  will  be  a  failure. 
A  stag,  three  dogs,  and  a  Highland  hunter  are  introduced 
on  the  canvas ;  but  the  stag  has  his  tongue  out  and  his 
mouth  shut  1  The  principal  dog,  a  greyhound,  has  the 
deer  by  one  ear,  while  one  of  his  fore-paws  is  around  his 
leg,  as  if  in  the  act  of  fondling  with  him.  The  hunter 
has  laced  the  deer  by  one  horn  very  prettily,  and,  in  the 
attitude  of  a  ballet-dancer,  is  about  to  throw  another 
noose  over  the  head  of  the  animal.  To  me,  and  my  friend 
Bourgeat,  or  Dr.  Pope,  such  a  picture  is  quite  a  farce ; 
but  it  is  not  so  in  London,  for  there  are  plenty  of  such 
pictures  there,  and  this  one  created  a  great  sensation 
among  the  connoisseurs. 

"Captain  Hall  invited  me  to  take  some  of  my  draw- 
ings to  show  Lady  Mansfield,  who  is  his  particular  friend, 
and  who  expressed  a  desire  to  see  them.  Unfortunately 
she  was  not  at  home  when  we  called ;  but  her  three 
daughters  and  several  noblemen  who  were  present  ex- 
amined them.  The  ladies  were  handsome,  but  seemed 
haughty,  and  wanting  in  that  refinement  of  manners  and 
condescending  courtesy  I  had  seen  in  the  Countess  of 
Morton  ;  and  the  gentlemen  evinced  a  like  lack  of  good 
breeding.  This  did  not  disturb  me,  but  I  was  troubled 
and  pained  for  Captain  HaU,  who  is  so  instinctively  a 
gentleman,  because  I  saw  that  he  felt  hurt  and  mortified. 
He  requested  me  to  leave  my  drawings,  which  cost  me  so 


The  Wernerian  Society. 


137 


many  days'  labor,  and  of  whiv^h  I  am  so  jealous,  and  1 
would  not  add  to  his  pain  who  had  proved  so  kind  a 
friend  to  me  by  denying  him.  Lunch  was  already  on  the 
table,  but  I  was  not  asked  to  remain,  and  I  was  truly 
glad  of  it,  and  I  went  away  almost  unnoticed,  and  hurried 
to  meet  an  engagement  at  the  Wernerian  rooms. 

"  When  I  entered  the  rooms  of  the  Wernerian  Socie- 
ty, they  jvere  full  as  an  ^gg,  and  I  was  told  by  a  friend 
that  the  large  assembly  had  come  because  of  a  report 
that  I  was  to  read  a  paper  on  the  habits  of  the  rattle- 
snake. Professor  Graham  arose  soon  after  my  arrival, 
and  said,  *Mr.  President,  Mr.  Audubon  has  arrived.' 
But  I  had  been  too  busy  to  finish  the  paper,  and  Mr. 
Lizars  explained  this  for  me.  My  engravings  were  then 
called  for  by  Professor  Jameson,  and  they  were  exaniincd 
and  highly  praised.  The  paper  on  the  alligator  was  fin- 
ished soon  after,  and  read  before  the  Society. 

"  A  stranger  lately  accostec  me  in  the  street,  and 
suggested  to  me,  that  if  I  would  paint  an  Osage  Indian 
hunting  wild  turkeys,  it  would  take  with  the  public  and 
increase  my  reputation.  No  doubt  it  would,  for  whatever 
is  most  strange  is  most  taking  now ;  but  so  long  as  my 
hair  floats  over  my  shoulders  I  shall  probably  attract  at- 
tention enough ;  and  if  it  hung  to  my  heels  it  would 
attract  more. 

''February  11.  Worked  all  the  morning  at  the  Royal 
Institution,  touching  up  my  pictures  hanging  there ;  sev- 
eral other  artists  came  and  worked  on  theirs  also.  It  was 
quite  amusing  to  hear  them  praising  one  another,  and 
condemning  the  absent 

"February  12.  Began  the  day  by  working  hard  on  the 
pictures  at  the  rooms  of  the  Scottish  Society.  And  to- 
day the  Antiquarian  Society  held  its  first  meeting  since 
ray  election.  It  is  customary  for  new  members  to  be 
present  at  such  times,  and  I  went,  and  though  I  fell 


^'?iS 


(ill 


1 


n 


m 


I 


i 


'38 


Life  of  Audubon, 


!h 


T  lil 


■:   I'i 


rather  sheepish,  I  was  warmly  congratulated  by  the  mem 
bers.  At  one  o'clock  1  visited  the  rooms  of  the  Royal 
Society,  which  were  crowded,  and  tables  were  set,  cover- 
ed with  wine  and  fruits  and  other  refreshments.  The 
ladies  were  mostly  of  noble  families,  and  I  saw  many 
there  whom  I  knew.  But  the  Ladies  Mansfield  passed 
me  several  times,  without  manifesting  any  recollection  of 
a  man  who,  a  few  days  before,  had  waited  on  tlieir  lady- 
ships, and  shown  them  his  drawings,  not  for  his  pleas- 
ure, but  their  benefit.  Sir  Walter  Scott  was  present,  and 
came  towards  me  and  shook  hands  cordially,  and  point- 
ing to  a  picture,  said,  *  Mr.  Audubon,  many  such  scenes 
have  I  witnessed  in  my  younger  days.'  We  talked  much 
of  all  about  us,  and  I  would  gladly  have  asked  him  to 
join  me  in  a  glass  of  wine,  but  my  foolish  habit  prevented 
me.  Having  inquired  after  the  health  of  his  daughters,  I 
shortly  left  him  and  the  room,  for  I  was  very  hungry ; 
and  although  the  table  was  loaded  with  delicacies,  and 
the  ladies  were  enjoying  them  freely,  I  say  it  to  my 
shame,  that  I  had  not  the  confidence  to  lay  my  fingers 
on  a  single  thing." 

An  interval  of  a  week  occurs  in  the  journal,  and  it  is 
explained  by  the  fact  that  Audubon  was  busily  engaged 
in  other  compositions,  and  writing  twelve  letters  of  in- 
troduction to  persons  in  America  for  Captain  Basil  Hall, 
and  preparing  an  article  on  the  habits  of  the  wild 
pigecii,  which  he  had  been  requested  to  do,  to  read  be- 
fore the  Natural  History  Society.  Dr.  Brewster  saw  the 
latter  before  it  was  read,  and  requested  permission  to 
publish  it  in  his  journal.  "  This,"  says  Audubon,  "  was 
killing  two  birds  with  one  stone,  because  I  had  promised 
to  write  Brewster  an  article.  I  began  that  paper  on 
Wednesday,  wrote  all  day,  and  sat  up  until  half-past 
three  the  next  morning  ;  and  so  absorbed  was  my  whole 
poul  and  spirit  in  the  work,  that  I  felt  as  if   I  were  U! 


•  iuiUaiti 


Remarks  on  JVild  Pigeons, 


»39 


the  >voocls  of  America  among  the  pigcor' ,  rnd  my  ears 
were  filled  with  the  sound  of  their  rustling  wings.  After 
sleeping  a  few  hours,  I  rose  and  corrected  it.  Captain 
Hall  called  a  few  hours  after,  read  the  article,  and  beg 
ged  a  copy  •  the  copy  was  made,  and  sent  to  him  at  eight 
o'clock  that  evening. 

"Captain  Hall  expressed  some  doubts  as  to  my 
views  respecting  the  affection  and  love  of  pigeons,  as 
if  I  made  it  human,  and  raised  the  possessors  quite 
above  the  brutes.  I  presume  the  love  of  the  mothers 
for  their  young  is  much  the  same  as  the  love  of  woman 
for  her  offspring.  There  is  but  one  kind  of  love  ;  God 
is  love,  and  all  his  creatures  derive  theirs  from  his ;  only 
it  is  modified  by  the  different  degrees  of  intelligence  in 
different  beings  and  creatures." 

On  February  20,  he  writes,  in  a  long  letter  to  his 
wife  :  "  It  is  impossible  yet  to  say  how  long  I  shall  re- 
main in  England  ;  at  least  until  I  have  spent  some  months 
in  London.  I  am  doing  all  I  can  to  hasten  my  plans, 
but  it  will  take  some  time  to  complete  them.  The  first 
number  of  my  birds  will  be  published  in  March,  and  on 
the  fifth  of  the  month  the  ballot  takes  place  to  decide  my 
election  to  the  Royal  Society,  which,  if  successful,  will 
be  of  great  advantage  to  me ;  and  whether  successful  or 
no  I  shall  leave  Edinburgh  five  days  after,  to  visit  all  the 
principal  towns  in  the  three  kingdoms,  to  obtain  sub- 
scribers for  my  work. 

^^  February  28.  A  few  days  of  idleness  have  com- 
pletely sickened  me,  and  given  me  what  is  called  the 
blue-devils  so  severely,  that  I  feel  that  the  sooner  I  go 
to  work  and  drive  them  off  the  better. 

^^  March  i.  Mr.  Kidd,  a  promising  young  artist  in 
landscape,  only  nineteen,  breakfasted  with  me  to-day,  and 
we  talked  on  painting  a  long  time,  and  I  was  charmed 
with  his  talents,  and  thought  what  a  difference  it  would 


■  1;! 

i 

■  i' 

i 


m 


\i 


wrw 


I'iif 


II 


140 


Life  of  Jiidiihon. 


have  made  in  my  life  if  I  had  begun  painting  iu  oil  at  his 
Age  and  with  his  ability.  It  is  a  sad  reflection  that  1 
have  been  compelled  to  hammer  and  stammer  as  if  I 
were  working  in  opposition  to  God's  will,  and  so  now  am 
.lOthing  but  poor  Audubon.  I  invited  him  to  come  to 
my  rooms  daily,  and  to  eat  and  drink  with  me,  and  give 
me  the  pleasure  of  his  company  and  the  advantage  of  his 
taste  in  painting.  I  told  him  of  my  ardent  desire  to  im- 
prove in  the  delightful  art,  and  proposed  to  begin  a  new 
picture,  in  which  he  should  assist  with  his  advice ;  and 
proposing  to  begin  it  to-morrow,  I  took  down  my  port- 
folio, to  select  a  drawing  to  copy  in  oil.  He  had  never 
seen  my  works  before,  and  appeared  astonished  as  his 
eyes  ranged  over  the  sheets.  He  expressed  the  warmest 
admiration,  and  said,  '  How  hopel'^'s  must  be  the  task  of 
my  giving  any  instruction  to  one  can  draw  like  this  ? 

I  pointed  out  to  him  that  nature  is  the  great  study  for 
the  artist,  and  assured  him  that  the  reason  why  my  works 
pleased  him  was  because  they  are  all  exact  copies  of  the 
works  of  God,  who  is  the  great  Architect  and  perfect  Ar- 
tist ;  and  impressed  on  his  mind  this  fact,  that  nature  in 
differently  copied  is  far  superior  to  the  best  idealities. 

"  March  ;!.  For  the  last  few  days  I  have  worked  with 
ray  brushes,  while  it  has  snowed  and  blown  as  if  the  devil 
had  cut  the  strings  of  the  bags  of  ^olus,  and  turned  all 
its  cold  blasts  down  upon  the  mists  of  Scotland  to  freeze 
them  into  snow.  It  is  twenty  years  since  I  have  seen 
such  a  storm.  Dined  at  Mr,  Ritchie's,  who  is  a  well- 
meaning  man,  and  has  a  well-doing  wife.  The  company 
was  mixed,  and  some  of  the  ingredients  were  raw  ;  there 
were  learned  and  ignorant,  wise  and  foolish,  making  up 
the  heterogeneous  assembly.  I  enjoyed  myself;  but 
there  wa^  an  actor,  named  Vandenhoff,  who  performed 
some  theatrical  pantomimes,  which  were  disgusting  to  me. 
I  never  saw  such  pranks  in  good  society  before  :  he  tuck* 


l|l{|lj 


Sydney  Smith, 


141 


e  1  one  lady's  fan  in  his  boot,  and  broite  it,  and  in.ide  an 
apology  for  it,  and  by  his  familiarity  annoyed  every  one 
present.  I  felt  more  pain  for  his  host  than  shame  for 
himself.  During  the  evening  he  made  some  unjust  re- 
marks about  Mr.  Lizars,  and  I  rebuked  him  for  it,  tell- 
ing him  that  he  was  my  friend,  and  a  good  ma  \  He 
left  soon  after,  to  the  great  relief  of  all. 

"  March  4.  To-day  the  snow  is  so  deep  that  the  mails 
from  all  quarters  are  interrupted,  and  people  are  wad- 
dling through  it  in  the  streets,  and  givijig  a  lively  repre- 
sentation of  a  Lapland  winter.  Breakfisted  with  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Newbold,  and  afterwards  was  toted  to  church  in 
a  sedan  chair.  I  had  never  been  in  one  before,  and  I 
like  to  try  everythlmg  which  is  going  on  on  the  face  of 
this  Strang  world.  But  so  long  as  I  have  two  feet  and 
legs,  I  never  desire  to  try  one  of  these  machines  again ; 
the  quick  up-and-down,  short  swinging  motion,  reminded 
me  of  the  sensations  I  felt  during  the  great  earthquake 
in  Kentucky.  But  I  was  repaid  for  the  ride  by  hearing  a 
sermon  irom  the  Rev.  Sydney  Smith.  It  was  a  sermon 
to  me.  Oh !  what  a  soul  tliere  must  be  in  the  body  of 
that  famous  man;  what  a  mingling  of  energetic  and 
sweet  thoughts,  what  a  fount  of  goodness  there  must  be 
within  him  !  He  made  me  smile,  and  he  made  me  think 
more  deeply  perhaps  than  I  had  ever  before  in  my  life. 
He  interested  me  now  by  painting  my  foibles,  and  then 
he  pained  me  by  portraying  my  sins,  until  he  made  my 
cheeks  crimson  with  shame,  and  filled  my  heart  with 
penitential  sorrow.  And  I  left  the  chr.rch  filled  with 
veneration  for  God,  and  reverence  loi  the  wonderful 
man  who  is  so  noble  an  example  of  his  ma-,  ellous  handy- 
work.  We  returned  to  Mr.  Newbold's  for  lunch,  and  from 
there  I  walked,  tumbled,  and  pitched  home  in  the  deep 


snow. 


'1, 


<i 


March  5.     In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Audubon  of  this  date 


i 


n 


141 


Life  of  Audubon. 


!! 


k 


he  tells  her  of  his  election  as  a  member  of  the  Rojal 
Society,  and  says  :  "  So  poor  Audubon,  if  not  rich,  thou 
wilt  be  honored  at  least,  and  held  in  esteem  among  men. 

"  March  6.  Finished  my  picture  this  morning,  and 
like  it  better  than  any  I  have  painted."  [He  does  not 
say  what  this  picture  is,  but  it  is  evidently  the  one  men- 
tioned as  begun  with  young  Kidd.]  "  Mr.  Ritchie,  editor 
of  the  '  Scotsman,'  asked  for  a  copy  of  the  first  number  of 
my  birds,  to  notice  it  in  his  paper.  Went  to  the  Society 
of  Arts,  and  saw  there  many  beautiful  and  remarkable  in- 
ventions, among  them  a  carriage  propelled  by  steam, 
which  moved  with  great  rapidity  and  regularity.  I  always 
enjoy  my  visits  here  more  than  to  the  literary  societies. 
The  time  for  leaving  Edinburgh  is  drawing  near,  but  I 
am  yet  undetermined  whether  to  go  first  to  Glasgow  or 
Dublin,  or  else  to  Newcastle,  and  then  to  Liverpool,  Ox- 
ford, Cambridge,  and  so  on  to  London ;  but  I  shall  soon 
decide  and  move. 

"  March  7.  Having  determined  to  leave  Edinburgh, 
my  first  course  is  to  settle  up  all  my  business  affairs,  and 
make  preparations  for  the  future,  and  to  this  end  I  set 
about  collecting  the  letters  promised  me  by  friends  to  the 
different  places  I  proposed  to  visit.  Professor  Jameson 
and  Dr.  Brewster  have  made  me  promise  occasionaLv  to 
contribute  some  articles  for  their  journals.  I  mentioned 
to  Dr.  Brewster  the  desire  I  had  for  a  line  from  Sir  Wal- 
ter Scott.  He  told  me  he  was  to  dine  with  him  that  day, 
and  he  would  mention  the  subject  to  him,  and  he  had  no 
doubt  he  would  kindly  grant  it.  Passed  the  evening  at 
a  large  party  at  Mr.  Ty tier's,  where,  among  other  ag  eea- 
ble  ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  was  introduced  to  Sydney 
Smith,  the  famous  preacher  of  last  Sunday.  Saw  his  fair 
daughters,  and  heard  them  sweetly  sing ;  and  he  and  his 
daughters  appointed  next  Saturday  to  examine  my  draw- 
ings. 


ii    \ 


Letter  from  Sir  IV alter  Scott.  14J 


*'  March  8.  The  weather  was  dreadful  last  night, 
vind  howling,  and,  what  you  would  hardly  expect,  the 
snow  six  feet  deep  in  some  places.  The  mail-carriers 
from  here  for  London  were  obliged  to  leave  their  horses, 
and  go  on  foot  with  their  bags.  Wrote  the  following  let- 
ter to  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

« *  Dear  Sir, 

"'On  the  eve  of  my  departure  to  visit  all  parts 
of  the  island,  and  afterwards  the  principal  cities  of  the 
Continent,  I  feel  an  ardent  desire  to  be  honored  by  being 
the  bearer  of  a  few  lines  from  yov  j:  own  hand  to  whomever 
you  may  please  to  introduce  me. 

"  *  I  beg  this  of  you  with  the  hope  that  my  efforts  to  ad- 
vance ornithological  studies,  by  the  publication  of  my  ( ol- 
lections  and  manuscripts,  may  be  thought  worthy  of  your 
kind  attentions,  and  an  excuse  for  thus  intruding  on  your 
precious  moments.  Should  you  feel  the  least  scruple, 
please  frankly  decline  it,  and  believe  me,  dear  sir,  that  I 
value  so  highly  my  first  reception,  when  presented  to  you 
by  my  good  friend  Captain  Basil  Hall,  and  your  subse- 
quent civilities,  that  I  never  shall  cease  to  be,  with  the 
highest  respect  and  admiration, 

"  *  Your  most  obedient,  humble  servant, 

" '  John  J.  Audubon.  ' " 

That  same  evening  the  following  answer  was  received. 

"  *  Dear  Mr.  Audubon, 

" '  I  am  sure  you  will  find  many  persons  better 
qualified  than  myself  to  give  you  a  passport  to  foreign 
countries,  since  circumstances  have  prevented  our  oftener 
meeting,  and  my  ignorance  does  not  permit  me  to  say 
anything  on  the  branches  of  natural  history  of  which  you 
are  so  well  possessed.  But  I  can  easily  and  truly  say, 
that  v»l  at  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing,  touching  youi 


'".  '■it 


\\:  '■ 


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L//J?  of  Auduhon, 


talents  and  manners,  corresponds  with  all  I  have  heard 

in  your  favor ;  and  that  I  am  a  sincere  believer  in  the 

extent  of  your  scientific  attainments,  though  I   have  not 

the  knowledge  necessary  to  form  an  accurate  judgment  on 

the  subject.     I  sincerely  wish  your  travels  may  prove 

agreeable,  and  remain, 

« I  Very  much  your 

"  *  Obedient  servant, 

" '  Walter  Scott,' 
"'Edinburgh,  March  8.'" 

"  Spent  the  evening  at  Miss  O'Neill's,  the  actress. 
Several  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  musical  ability  were 
present,  and  after  tea  Miss  O'Neill  arose  and  said  she 
would  open  the  concert.  She  was  beautifully  dressed  in 
plain  white  muslin,  her  fine  auburn  hair  hanging  in  flowing 
ringlets  about  her  neck  and  rose-colored  scarf  over  her 
shoulders,  looking  as  differently  from  what  she  does  on 
the  stage  as  can  be  imagined.  She  sang  and  played 
sweetly,  her  large,  dark  languid  eyes  expressing  the  deep 
emotions  of  her  soul.  She  scarcely  left  off  singing  for  a 
moment,  for  as  soon  as  one  thing  was  finished  some  per- 
son called  for  another,  and  she  readily  replied,  *  Oh,  yes  'I 
and  glees,  duets,  and  trios  followed  one  another,  filling 
the  room  with  her  melodies.  I  thought  at  last  that  she 
must  be  fatigued,  and  said  so  to  her.  But  she  replied, 
*  Mr.  Audubon,  music  is  like  painting,  it  never  fatigues  if 
one  is  fond  of  it,  and  I  am.'  We  had  an  elegant  supper,  and 
after  tliat  more  music,  and  then  more  refreshments  and 
wine  ;  this  gave  new  impulse  to  the  song.  Miss  O'Neill 
played,  and  called  on  the  singers  to  accompany  her.  The 
music  travelled  along  the  table,  and  sometimes  leaped 
across  it ;  gentlemen  and  ladies  took  turns,  until,  looking 
at  my  watch,  I  found  that  it  was  past  two  o'clock,  when  1 
arose,  and  in  spite  of  many  entreaties,  shook  hands  with 
Miss  O'Neill,  bowed  to  the  company,  and  made  my  exit 


A  Dinner  Party, 


H5 


"  March  1 3.  Breakfasted  with  the  famous  Mrs.  Grant, 
her  son  and  daughter  the  only  other  company.  She  is 
aged  and  very  deaf,  but  very  intelligent  and  warm-hearted. 
We  talked  of  America,  ar  i  she  is  really  the  first  person  I 
have  met  here  who  knows  much  about  it.  She  thought  it 
would  not  be  for  the  benefit  of  the  slaves  to  set  them  free 
suddenly  from  their  masters*  protection. 

"  Passed  a  most  uncomfortable  evening  at  Sir  Jame*^ 
Riddell's.  The  company  was  too  high  for  me,  for  al- 
though Sir  James  and  his  lady  did  all  that  could  be  de- 
sired to  entertain  me,  I  did  not  smile  nor  have  a  happy 
thought,  all  the  evening  ;  and  had  not  Mrs.  Hay  and  Mrs, 
Captain  Hall  been  present,  I  should  have  been  very  mis- 
erable. After  dinner,  however,  my  drawings  were  ex- 
amined and  praised,  and  they  seemed  to  look  on  me  as 
less  of  a  bear,  and  I  felt  relieved.  My  good  friend  Mr. 
Hay  asked  a  young  Russian  nobleman  who  was  present 
if  he  could  not  give  me  some  letters  to  his  country,  but  he 
was  silent  I  turned  to  Mr.  Hay,  and  thanked  him  for 
his  kind  intentions  in  such  a  way  as  to  turn  the  conversa- 
tion, and  relieve  his  embarrassment.  The  best  recom- 
mendation I  can  have  is  my  own  talents,  and  the  fruits  of 
my  own  labors,  and  what  others  will  not  do  for  me  I  will 
try  and  do  for  myself.  I  was  very  sorry  that  Mr.  Hay's 
feelings  should  have  been  hurt  on  my  account  by  the 
young  man's  silence,  but  I  soon  made  him  at  ease  again. 
Sir  James  volunteered  to  give  me  letters  to  Sir  Thomas 
Ackland  and  Sir  Robert  Inglis,  both  noblemen  of  dis- 
tinction, and  patrons  of  the  science  I  cultivate.  The 
style  here  far  surpassed  even  Lord  Morton's  ;  fine  gentle- 
men waited  on  us  at  table,  and  two  of  them  put  my  cloak 
about  my  shoulders,  notwithstanding  my  remonstrances. 

^^  March  17.  Issued  my  *  Prospectus'  this  morning,  for 
the  publication  of  my  great  work. 


111 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


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ij     ! 


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"  7%<?  Prospectus. 

"To  those  who  have  not  seen  any  portion  of  the 
aisihor's  collection  of  original  drawings,  it  may  be  proper 
to  state,  that  their  superiority  consists  in  the  accuracy  as 
to  proportion  and  outline,  and  the  variety  and  truth  of  t!-- 
attitudes  and  positions  of  the  figures,  resulting  from  the 
peculiar  means  discovered  and  employed  by  the  author, 
and  his  attentive  examination  of  the  objects  portrayed 
during  a  long  series  of  years.  The  author  has  not  con- 
tented himself,  as  others  have  done,  with  single  profile 
views,  but  in  very  many  instances  has  grouped  his  fig- 
ures so  as  to  represent  the  originals  at  their  natural  avoca- 
tions, and  has  placed  them  on  branches  of  trees,  decorated 
with  foliage,  blossoms,  and  fruits,  or  amidst  plants  of 
numerous  species.  Some  are  seen  pursuing  their  prey 
through  the  air,  searching  for  food  amongst  the  leaves  and 
herbage,  sitting  in  their  nests,  or  feeding  their  young; 
whilst  others,  of  a  different  nature,  swim,  wade,  or  glide 
in  or  over  their  allotted  element. 

"  The  insects,  reptiles,  and  fishes  that  form  the  food  of 
these  birds  have  now  and  then  been  introduced  into  the 
drawings.  In  every  instance  where  a  difference  of 
plumage  exists  between  the  sexes,  both  the  male  and  the 
female  have  been  represented  ;  and  the  extraordinary 
changes  which  some  species  undergo  in  their  progress 
from  youth  to  maturity  have  been  depicted.  The  plants 
are  all  copied  from  nature,  and,  as  many  of  the  originals 
are  remarkable  for  their  beauty,  their  usefulness,  or  their 
rarity,  the  botanist  cannot  fail  to  look  upon  them  with  de- 
light. 

"  The  particulars  of  the  plan  of  the  work  may  be  re- 
duced to  the  following  heads  : 

"  I.  The  size  of  the  work  is  double  elephant  folio, 
the  paper  being  of  the  finest  quality. 


A  Great  Sacrifice. 


147 


"  II.  The  engravings  are,  in  every  instance,  of  the 
exact  dimensions  of  the  drawings,  which,  without  any  ex 
ception,  represent  the  birds  and  other  objects  of  theit 
natural  size. 

"  III.  The  plates  are  colored  in  the  most  careful  man 
ner  from  the  original  drawings. 

"  IV.  The  work  appears  in  numbers,  of  which  five  are 
published  annually,  each  number  consisting  of  five  plates. 

"  V.  The  price  of  each  number  is  two  guineas,  paya- 
ble on  delivery." 

Probably  no  other  undertaking  of  Audubon's  life 
illustrates  the  indomitable  character  of  the  man  more 
fully  than  this  prospectus.  He  was  in  a  strange  country, 
with  no  friends  but  those  he  had  made  within  a  few 
months,  and  not  ready  money  enough  in  hand  to  bring 
out  the  first  number  proposed,  and  yet  he  entered  confi- 
dently on  this  undertaking,  which  was  to  cost  over  a  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars,  and  with  no  pledge  of  help,  but  on 
the  other  hand  discouragements  on  all  sides,  and  from  his 
best  friends,  of  the  hopelessness  of  such  an  undertaking. 

March  19.  Under  this  date  we  have  an  amusing  en- 
try. Audubon  had  been  frequently  importuned  by  his 
friends  to  cut  his  nair,  which  ho  had  for  years  worn  in  ring- 
lets falling  to  his  shoulders.     Hence  the  obituary : — 


EDINBURGH. 
March  19,  182'7. 

This  day  my  Hair  was  sacrificed,  and  the  will  of  God  usurp- 
ed by  the  wishes  of  Man. 

As  the  Barber  clipped  my  locks  rapidly,  it  rt-minded  me  of 

the  horrible  times  of  the  French  Re^oluiion,  when  the  same 

operation  was  performed  upon  all  the  victims  murdfred  by  the 

Guillotine. 

My  heart  sank  low. 

JOHN  J.  AUDUBON. 


m 


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148 


Life  of  Audubon, 


The  margin  of  the  sheet  is  painted  black,  about 
three -fourths  of  an  inch  deep  all  around,  as  if  in  deep 
mourning  for  the  loss  which  he  had  reluctantly  submitted 
to  in  order  to  please  his  friends.  He  consented,  sadly^ 
because  he  expected  soon  to  lea^  c  for  London,  and  Cap 
tain  Hall  persuaded  him  that  it  would  be  better  for  him 
to  wear  it  according  to  the  prevailing  English  fashion  I 


VA    tH; 


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i 


CHAPTER  XL 

Provincial  Canvass  for  Subscribers —  Visit  to  London — Sir  TTkomai 
Lawrence—  The  Great  Work  in  Progress  —  Horrors  of  London — 
The  Great  Work  Presented  to  the  King. 

UITTING  Edinburgh  with  a  high  heart,  the  in- 
domitable  naturalist  began  his  provincial  can- 
S3l  vass,  meeting,  as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  with  two 
kinds  of  treatment, — very  good  and  verj-  bad.  H  i  visited 
in  succession  Newcastle,  Leeds,  York,  Shrewsbury,  and 
Manchester,  securing  a  few  subscribers  at  two  hundred 
pounds  a  head  in  each  place.  His  diary  chronicles  mi- 
nutely all  his  affairs — dining-out,  tea-drinking,"  receiving," 
— but  none  are  very  interesting.  The  only  incident  at  all 
wortti  recording*  is  a  visit  paid  to  Bewick  the  engraver,  but 
as  it  adds  nothi;  ig  to  our  knowledge  of  one  who  was  a 
real  genius  in  h  'S  way,  we  pass  on  to  metal  more  attrac- 
tive,— to  L'  )ndo  1,  where  Audubon  continued  his  canvass, 
with  great  success  among  the  aristocracy.  From  a  con- 
fused heap  of  memoranda  we  take  a  few  notes  of  this  Lon- 
don visit,  suppressing  much,  and  somewhat  doubtful  of 
the  relevancy  even  of  what  we  select 

"  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence. — My  first  call  on  this  great 
artist  and  idolized  portrait-painter  of  Great  Britain,  whose 
works  are  known  over  the  whole  world,  was  at  half-past 
eight  in  the  morning.  I  was  assured  he  would  be  as  hard 
at  work  at  that  time  as  I  sually  am.  I  took  with  me  ray 
letters  and  portfolio,  with  some  original  drawings.  The 
servant  said  his  master  was  in  \  I  gave  my  name,  and 
waited  about  five  minutes,  when  he  came  down  from  his 
room.    His  manner  and  reception  impressed  me  most 


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Life  of  Audubon. 


favorably,  and  I  was  surprised  to  find  hiin  dressed  as  if 
for  the  whole  day,  in  a  simple  but  clean  garb.  He  shook 
my  hand,  read  my  letters,  a;id  so  gave  me  time  to  glanct 
at  the  marble  figures  in  the  room  and  to  examine  his  face. 
It  did  not  show  the  marks  of  genius  that  I  expected  in  one 
30  eminent,  but  looked  pale  and  pensive.  After  reading 
my  letters  he  said  he  was  pleased  to  meet  another  Ameri- 
can introduced  to  him  by  his  friend  Sully,  adding,  that 
he  wished  much  to  see  the  drawings  of  a  man  so  highly 
spoken  of,  and  appointing  next  Thursday  to  call  on  me.  He 
took  a  large  card  and  wrote  the  appointment  on  it,  and 
put  it  back  in  its  place. 

"  Sir  Thomas  is  no  ornithologist,  and  therefore  could 
not  well  judge  of  the  correctness  of  the  detail  of  my  draw- 
ings, which  can  be  appreciated  fully  only  by  those  who 
are  acquainted  with  the  science  of  which  I  myself  am  yet 
only  a  student.  But  I  found  that  he  had  a  perfect  idea  of 
the  rules  of  drawing  any  object  whatever,  as  well  of  the 
forms  and  composition,  or  management  01  the  objects 
offered  for  the  inspection  of  his  keen  eyes.  I  thought 
from  his  face  that  he  looked  at  them  with  astonishment 
and  pleasure,  although  he  did  not  open  liis  lips  until 
I  had  shown  the  last  drawing,  when  he  asked  if  I  '  paint- 
ed in  oils  ? '  On  answering  him  in  the  affirmative,  he  in- 
vited me  to  examine  his  rooms.  The  room  where  he 
painted,  to  my  utter  astonishment,  had  a  southern  light: 
upon  his  easel  was  a  canvas  (kitcat),  on  which  was  a  per- 
fect drawing  in  black  chalk,  beautifully  finished,  of  a  no- 
bleman, and  on  a  large  easel  a  full-sized  portrait  of  a  no- 
ble lady,  represented  in  the  open  air ;  and  on  the  latter 
he  went  to  work.  I  saw  that  his  pallet  was  enormous, 
and  looked  as  if  already  prepared  with  the  various  tints 
wanted  by  some  one  else,  and  that  he  had  an  almost  in- 
numerable number  of  brushes  and  pencils  of  all  descrip- 
tions.    He  now  glazed  one  part  of  his  picture,  and  then 


w'     ! 


W 


Sir  Thomas  Lawrence, 


'5' 


m- 
he 


retouched  another  part  with  fine  colors,  and  in  a  deliber 
ate  way  which  did  not  indicate  that  he  was  in  any  haste 
to  finish  it.  He  next  laid  down  his  pallet,  and,  turning 
to  the  chalk  drawing  upon  the  unpainted  canvas,  asked 
me  how  I  liked  his  manner  of  proceeding?  But  as  no 
compliment  could  be  paid  by  me  to  such  an  artist,  I 
merely  said  that  I  thought  it  the  very  quintessence  of  his 
art.  A  waiter  then  entered,  and  announced  that  break- 
fast was  ready.  He  invited  me  to  remain  and  join  him 
in  his  *  humble  meal,'  which  I  declined,  while  we  walked 
downstairs  together.  I  remarked  on  the  very  large  num- 
ber of  unfinished  portraits  I  saw  :  to  which  he  mildly  re- 
plied, *  My  dear  sir,  this  is  my  only  misfortune  ;  I  can- 
not tell  if  I  shall  ever  see  the  day  when  they  will  all  be 
finished.'  Insisting  on  my  remaining  to  breakfast,  I 
went  in;  it  consisted  of  a  few  boiled  eggs,  some  dry 
toast,  and  tea  and  coffee.  He  took  the  first,  and  I  the 
last :  this  finished,  I  bid  him  good-morning.  It  was  ten 
o'clock  when  I  left,  and  as  I  passed  out  three  carriages 
were  waiting  at  the  door  ;  and  had  I  not  been  a  student 
in  ornithology  I  would  have  wished  myself  a  Sir  Thomas 
Lawrence,  for  I  thought  that  after  all  the  superiority  of 
this  wonderful  man's  talents  I  could  with  less  powers 
realize  more  than  he  by  my  own  more  constant  industry. 
"  Sir  Thomas  afterwards  paid  me  three  visits  ;  two  at 
my  boarding  house  and  one  at  Mr.  Havell's,  my  engrav- 
er ;  and  I  will  tell  you  something  of  each  of  them  to 
show  you  the  kindness  of  his  heart.  It  was  nine  in  the 
morning  th  first  time  he  came  ;  he  looked  at  some  of 
my  drawings  of  quadrupeds  and  birds,  both  finished  and 
unfinished.  He  said  nothing  of  their  value,  but  asked 
me  particularly  of  the  prices  which  I  put  on  them.  I 
mentioned  the  price  of  several  in  order,  and  to  my  sur- 
prise he  said  he  would  bring  me  a  few  purchasers  that 
very  day  if  I  would  remain  at  home  :  this  I  promised 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


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■t-:^^ 


and  he  left  me  very  greatly  relieved.  In  about  two  hour* 
he  returned  with  two  gentlemen,  to  whom  he  did  not  in 
troduce  me,  but  who  were  pleased  with  my  work,  and  one 
purchased  the  *  Otter  Caught  in  a  Trap,'  for  which  he 
gave  me  twenty  pounds  sterling,  and  the  other, '  A  Group 
of  Common  Rabbits,'  for  fifteen  sovereigns.  I  took  the 
pictures  to  the  carriage  which  stood  at  the  door,  and  they 
departed,  leaving  me  more  amazed  than  I  had  been  by 
their  coming. 

"The  second  visit  was  much  of  the  same  nature, dif- 
fering, however,  chiefly  in  the  number  of  persons  he 
brought  with  him,  which  was  three  instead  of  two  ;  each 
one  of  whom  purchased  a  picture  at  seven,  ten,  and  thirty- 
five  pounds  respectively ;  and  as  before,  the  party  and 
pictures  left  together  in  a  splendid  carriage  with  liveried 
footmen.  I  longed  to  know  their  names,  but  as  Sir  Thom- 
as was  silent  respecting  them  I  imitated  his  reticence  in 
restraining  my  curiosity,  and  remained  in  mute  astonish- 
ment. 

"  The  third  call  of  this  remarkable  man  was  in  conse- 
quence of  my  having  painted  a  picture,  with  the  intention 
of  presenting  it  to  the  King  of  England,  George  IV. 
This  pictuie  was  the  original  of  the  *  English  Pheasants 
Surprised  by  a  Spanish  Dog.'  I  had  shown  it  to  Sir 
Walter  Waller,  who  was  his  majesty's  oculist,  and  he 
liked  the  picture  so  much,  and  was  so  pleased  with  my 
intention,  as  was  also  my  friend  Mr.  Children,  the  cura- 
tor of  the  British  Museum,  that  they  prevailed  on  Sir 
Tliomas  to  come  and  see  it.  He  came,  and  pushed  off 
my  roller  easel,  bade  me  hold  up  the  picture,  walked 
from  one  side  of  the  room  to  the  other  examining  it,  and 
then  coming  to  me  tapped  me  on  the  shoulder  and  said, 
*  Mr.  Audubon,  that  picture  is  too  good  to  be  given 
away ;  his  majesty  would  accept  it,  but  you  never  would 
be  benefitted  by  the  gift  more  than  receiving  a  letter 


Life  in  London, 


1 53 


1 


from  his  private  secretary,  saying  that  it  had  been  placed 
in  his  collection.  That  picture  is  worth  three  hundred 
guineas :  sell  it,  and  do  not  give  it  away.'  I  thanked 
him,  exhibited  the  picture,  refused  three  hundred  guineas 
for  it  soon  after,  kept  it  several  years,  and  at  last  sold  it 
for  one  hundred  guineas  to  my  generous  friend  John 
Heppenstall  of  Sheffield,  England,  and  invested  the 
amount  in  spoons  and  forks  for  my  good  wife. 

"  Without  the  sale  of  these  pictures  I  was  a  bank- 
rupt, when  my  work  was  scarcely  begun,  and  in  two  days 
more  I  should  have  seen  all  my  hopes  of  the  publication 
blasted  ;  for  Mr.  Havell  (the  engraver)  had  already  called 
to  say  that  on  Saturday  I  must  pay  him  sixty  pounds. 
I  was  then  not  only  not  worth  a  penny,  but  had  actually 
borrowed  five  pounds  a  few  days  before  to  purchase  ma- 
terials for  my  pictures.  But  these  pictures  which  Sir 
Thomas  sold  for  me  enabled  me  to  pay  my  borrowed 
money,  and  to  appear  full-handed  when  Mr.  Havell  call- 
ed.    Thus  I  passed  the  Rubicon  ! 

"  At  that  time  I  painted  all  day,  and  sold  my  work 
during  the  dusky  hours  of  evening,  as  I  walked  through 
the  Strand  and  other  streets  where  the  Jews  reigned  \ 
popping  in  and  out  of  Jew-shops  or  any  others,  and 
never  refusing  the  offers  made  me  for  the  pictures  I  car- 
ried fresh  from  the  easel.  Startling  and  surprising  as 
this  may  seem,  it  is  nevertheless  true,  and  one  of  the  cu- 
rious events  of  my  most  extraordinary  life.  Let  me  add 
here,  that  I  sold  seven  copies  of  the  '  Entrapped  Otter ' 
in  London,  Manchester,  and  Liverpool,  besides  one  copy 
presented  to  my  friend  Mr.  Richard  Rathbone.  In  other 
pictures,  also,  I  have  sold  from  seven  to  ten  copies, 
merely  by  changing  the  course  of  my  rambles ;  and 
strange  to  say,  that  when  in  after  years  and  better  times 
I  called  on  the  differer  t  owners  to  whom  I  had  sold  the 
copies,  I  never  found  a  single  one  in  their  hands.  An^ 
7* 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


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_^ 

J  recollect  that  once,  through  inadvertence,  when  I  called 
at  a  shop  where  I  had  sold  a  copy  of  the  picture,  the 
dealer  bought  the  duplicate  at  the  same  price  he  had 
given  for  the  first  1  What  has  become  of  all  those  pic- 
tures?" 

About  this  date  Sir  Robert  Peel  returned  a  letter  Au- 
dubon had  brought  to  him  from  Lord  Meadowbank,  and 
requested  him  to  hand  it  over  to  his  successor.  This 
Audubon  interpreted  as  giving  him  to  understand  that 
he  need  trouble  him  no  more.  The  letter  was  obtained 
with  the  view  of  gaining  a  presentation  to  the  king,  and 
Audubon  was  not  a  man  to  easily  relinquish  an  idea  or 
an  object  which  he  had  once  determined  on.  According- 
ly, he  says,  "  I  made  up  my  mind  to  go  directly  to  the 
American  minister,  Mr.  Gallatin,  and  know  from  him  how 
I  should  proceed,  and  if  there  were  really  no  chance  of 
my  approaching  the  king  nearer  than  by  passing  his  cas- 
tle. To  pay  a  visit  of  this  sort  in  London  is  really  no 
joke ;  but  as  I  thought  there  was  a  possibility  of  it  for 
myself,  I  wanted  to  have  the  opinion  of  one  who  I  be- 
lieved was  capable  of  deciding  the  matter. 

"As  I  reached  his  presence  he  said,  laughing,  *  Al- 
ways .  ■ '  home,  my  dear  ir,  when  I  am  not  out.'  I  un- 
derstood him  perfectly,  and  explained  the  object  of  my 
visit.  His  intellectual  face  lighted  up  as  he  replied, 
*  What  a  simple  man  you  must  be  to  believe  all  that 
is  said  to  you  about  being  introduced  to  his  majesty  1 
It  is  impossible,  my  dear  sir;  the  king  sees  nobody; 
ho  has  the  gout,  is  peevish,  and  spends  his  time  play- 
ing whist  at  a  shilling  a  rubber.  I  had  to  wait  six 
weeks  before  I  was  presented  to  him  in  my  position 
cf  ambassador,  and  then  I  merely  saw  him  six  or 
seven  minutes.  He  stood  only  during  the  time  the 
public  functionaries  from  foreign  countries  passed  him, 
and    seated    himself  immediately    afterwards,    paying 


Delay  in  the  JVork. 


155 


scarcely  any  attention  to  the  numerous  court  of  Eng« 
lish  noblemen  and  gentlemen  present.*  I  waited  a  mo* 
ment,  and  said  that  I  thought  the  Duke  of  Northumber- 
land would  interest  himself  for  me.  Again  he  laughed, 
and  assured  me  that  my  attempts  there  would  prove  in- 
effectual. '  Think,'  continued  he ;  *  I  have  called  hun- 
dreds of  times  on  like  men  in  England,  and  been  assured 
that  his  grace,  or  lordship,  or  ladyship,  was  not  at  home, 
until  I  have  grown  wiser,  and  stay  at  home  myself,  and 
merely  attend  to  my  political  business,  and  God  only 
knows  when  I  will  have  done  with  that.  It  requires 
written  appointments  of  a  month  or  six  weeks  before  an 
interview  can  be  obtained.'  I  then  changed  the  conver- 
sation to  other  subjects,  but  he  kindly  returned  to  it 
again,  and  said,  *  Should  the  king  hold  a  levde  whilst  you 
are  here,  I  will  take  you  to  Court,  and  present  you  as  an 
American  scientific  gentleman,  but  of  course  would  not 
mention  your  work.'  I  remained  with  him  a  full  hour ; 
and,  as  I  was  about  to  leave,  he  asked  me  for  all  the 
cards  I  had  in  my  case,  and  said  he  would  use  them 
well,  and  find  me  visitors  if  possible. 

"  yune  I  o.  The  work  on  the  first  number  is  yet  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Lizars,  in  Edinburgh,  and  this  day  I  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  him,  saying  that  '  the  colorers  had  all 
struck  work,  and  that  my  work  was,  in  consequence,  at  a 
stand.'  He  asked  me  to  try  to  find  some  persons  here 
who  would  engage  in  that  part  of  the  business,  and  said 
he  would  exert  himself  to  make  all  right  again  as  soon  as 
possible.  This  was  quite  a  shock  to  my  nerves,  and  for 
nearly  an  hour  I  deliberated  whether  I  should  not  go  at 
once  to  Edinburgh,  but  an  engagement  at  Lord  Spencer's, 
where  I  expected  a  subscriber,  decided  me  to  remain. 
I  reached  his  lordship's  house  about  twelve  o'clock,  and 
met  there  Dr.  Walterton  and  the  Rt.  Hon.  William  S. 
Ponsonby  engaged  in  conversation  with  Lady  Spencer,  a 


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Life  of  Audubon. 


fat  woman,  of  extremely  engaging  and  unassuming  man 
ners.  She  entered  into  conversation  with  me  at  ones 
about  the  habits  of  the  wild  turkey,  how  to  tame  them, 
and  the  like ;  while  the  gentlemen  examined  and  praised 
my  drawings,  and  the  two  lords  subscribed  for  my  work  \ 
and  I  went  off  rejoicing,  between  two  rows  of  fine  waiters, 
who  seemed  to  wonder  who  the  devil  I  could  be,  that 
Lady  Spencer  should  shake  rae  by  the  hand,  and  accom- 
pany me  to  the  door. 

"  From  there  I  went  to  Mr.  Ponton's,  and  met  Mr. 
Dibdin,  and  twenty  ladies  and  gentlemen,  who  had  as- 
sembled to  see  my  drawings.  Fiere  four  more  sub- 
scribers were  obtained.  This,  I  thought,  was  a  pretty 
good  day's  work ;  but  on  returning  home  I  found  a  note 
from  Mr.  Vigors,  giving  the  name  of  another  subscriber, 
and  informing  me  of  the  arrival  of  Charles  Bonaparte  in 
the  city.  I  walked  to  the  lodgings  of  the  Prince  of 
Musignano :  he  was  out.  I  left  my  card,  and  soon  after 
my  return  a  servant  told  me  he  was  below  j  I  was  not 
long  in  getting  down  stairs,  and  soon  grasped  his  hind  ; 
we  were  mutually  glad  to  meet  on  this  distant  shore. 
His  mustachios  and  bearded  chin  and  his  fine  head  and 
eye  were  all  unchanged.  He  wished  to  see  all  my  draw- 
ings, and  for  almost  the  only  time  in  England  I  opened 
my  portfolio  with  intense  pleasure.  He  said  they  were 
worthy  to  be  published,  and  I  felt  proud  of  his  opinion. 

"  As  soon  as  he  had  gone  my  thoughts  returned  to  the 
colorers,  and  I  started  off  at  once  to  find  some,  but  with 
no  success ;  all  the  establishments  of  the  kind  were 
closed  from  want  of  employment.  But  happening  to  pass 
a  print-shop,  I  inquired  if  the  proprietor  knew  of  any 
colorers,  and  he  at  once  gave  me  the  name  of  one,  who 
offered  to  work  cheaper  than  I  was  paying  in  Edinburgh  ^ 
and  I  wrote  instantly  to  Mr.  Lizars  to  send  me  twenty- 
five  copies ;   and  so  I  hope   all  will  go  on  well  agaia 


% 


Poverty  in  London. 


^Sl 


After  a  long  hunt  I  entered  a  long  dark  alley  in  searck 
of  the  rolorer's  house,  to  which  I  had  been  directed.     It 
was  ten  o'clock,  and  after  mounting  two  stories  in  search 
of  the  man,  I  knocked,  and  a  little  door  was  opened. 
The  family  were  surprised  by  the  appearance  of  a  stran- 
ger, as  much  as  I  was  by  what  I  saw.     A  young  man  was 
sitting  by  a  small  window  drawing;  a  woman  whom  I 
took  to  be  his  mother  was  washing  a  few  potatoes  in  hot 
water  ;  a  younger  woman  nursed  a  child,  leaning  on  the 
only  bed  in  the  room ;  and  six  little  children    irostly 
girls,  shabby  in  appearance  and  sallow  in   complexion, 
showed  that  hunger  was  not    a   stranger    there.     The 
young  man  arose,  offered  me  his  seat,  and  asked  nr.e  po- 
litely what  I  wanted.     I  told  him  I  was  looking  for  a 
colorer.     He  replied  that  he  once  worked  at  it,  but  had 
abandoned  the  business,  because  he  was  unable  to  sup- 
port his  large  family  by  it,  even  to  provide  them  bread 
and  potatoes.     He  showed  me  the  work  he  was  doing  :  it 
was  a  caricature  of  Canning,  hiding  himself  behind  some 
Roman  Catholic  priests,  as  if  listening  to  their  talk  ;  each 
one  of  the  priests  held  a  rope  in  his  hand,  as  if  ready  to 
hang  their  opponents,  and  the  whole  proved  that  the  man 
had  a  good  knowledge  of  drawing.     Just  then  the  moth- 
er told  him  breakfast  was  ready.     The  poor  man  begged 
me  to  excuse  him,  saying  that  he  had  not  tasted  anything 
the    day   before  ;  that  the  potatoes  were  a  present,  he 
would  eat  soon,  and  then  tell  me  of  some  colorers  now 
in  the  business.     I  sat  silently  and  saw  the  food  equally 
divided  ;  the  mother,  wife,  children,  and  father  soon  swal- 
lowed their  share,  but  it  was  scarcely  enough  to  appease 
the  hunger  of  the  moment.     He  gave  me  as  he  ate  the 
names  (A  three  men,  and,  pained  by  the  scene  before  me, 
I  rose  to  go.     Just  then  the  father  said  to  the  children 
and  wife,  *  It  is  high  time  you  should  go  to  work,'  and 
asking  me  at  the  same  time  to  remain  a  few  moments 


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Life  of  Auduhon, 


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longer.  The  family  went  off,  and  I  felt  relieved  to  know 
that  they  had  some  employment,  and  asked  him  what  il 
was  I  He  replied,  *  Begging,  sir.'  All  that  family,  wife, 
and  half-grown  girls,  turned  out  in  the  streets  of  London 
to  beg.  He  assured  me  that  witl  i  all  their  united  exer- 
tions they  seldom  had  more  than  one  meal  a  day  ;  and 
that  in  an  extremity  a  few  days  before  he  had  been  com- 
pelled to  sell  his  best  bed  to  pay  the  rent  of  his  miserable 
room.  Unfortunately  I  had  but  a  few  shillings  with  me, 
because  I  had  been  advised  to  carry  neither  watch  nor 
money  in  London,  and  had  not  the  gratification  of  doing 
much  to  relieve  him.  He  said  his  caricatures  brought 
him  in  but  little,  and  that  despair  had  prompted  him 
more  than  once  to  drown  himself,  for  he  was  only  a 
weight  on  the  neck  of  his  wife  and  children.  Oh  1  how 
sick  I  am  of  London. 

'•  June  21.  Received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Lizars,  that  he 
must  discontinue  my  work.  Have  made  an  engagement 
with  Mr.  Havell  for  coloring,  which  I  hope  will  relieve 
my  embarrassment.     Have  painted  a  great  deal  to-day. 

"  yune  22.  Am  invited  to  dine  at  the  Royal  Society's 
Club,  with  Charles  Bonaparte.  Gave  some  lessons  in 
drawing  to  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Children,  Mrs.  Atkins : 
she  has  fine  talents,  but  they  are  not  cultivated  so  highly 
as  Mrs.  Edward  Roscoe's.  This  evening  Charles  Bona- 
parte came  with  Lord  Clifton,  and  several  other  gentle- 
men to  examine  my  drawings.  They  were  all  learned 
ornithologists,  but  they  all  said  that  there  were  birds  here 
which  they  had  never  dreamed  of,  and  Bonaparte  offered 
to  name  them  for  me.  1  was  ple;ised  at  the  suggestion, 
and  with  a  pencil  he  wrote  down  upwards  of  fifty  names, 
and  invited  me  to  publish  them  at  once  in  manuscript  at 
the  Zoological  Society.  We  had  charming  discussions 
about  birds  and  their  habits.  Oh  that  our  knowledge 
could  be  arranged  into  a  solid  mass !     I  smi  sure  that 


Visit  to  the  Provinces. 


I5S 


then  the  best  ornithological  publication  of  the  birds  ol 
my  beloved  country  would  be  produced.  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  it  strikes  me,  when  I  am  at  Bonaparte's  lodg- 
ings, to  hear  his  servant  call  him  *  Your  Royal  Highness.* 
I  think  it  ridiculous  in  the  extreme,  and  cannot  imagine 
how  good  Charles  can  bear  it ;  but  probably  he  does 
bear  it  because  he  is  Good  Charles. 

"  July  2.  I  am  so  completely  out  of  spirits,  that  I 
have  several  times  opened  my  book,  held  the  pen,  and 
felt  anxious  to  write ;  but  all  in  vain  ;  I  am  too  dull,  too 
mournful. 

"  I  have  given  the  copy  of  my  first  number  of  the 
Birds  to  Mr.  Children,  a  proof :  it  is  the  only  one  in  ex 
istcnce,  for  which  he  paid  me  the  price  of  all  the  sub- 
scribers, i.  e.,  two  guineas,  and  I  may  say  with  safety 
that  the  two  guineas  are  the  only  two  I  have  had  on  ac- 
count of  that  work.  I  have  finished  another  picture  of 
the  Rabbits,  and  am  glad  of  it ;  it  is  all  my  consolation. 
I  wish  I  were  out  of  London." 

But  it  does  not  appear  that  Audubon's  despondency 
lasted  very  long.  He  dispelled  it  by  a  sudden  rush  into 
the  provinces,  where  he  was  well  received  by  former 
friends.  From  an  entry  made  at  Leeds  on  September  30, 
it  is  clear  that  even  in  London  the  sun  had  begun  to 
shine  out  again. 

"  Nearly  three  months  since  I  touched  one  of  the 
sheets  of  my  dear  book.  And  I  am  quite  ashamed  of  it, 
for  I  have  had  several  interestin<;  incidents  to  record, 
well  deserving  of  relation,  even  in  my  poor  humble  style 
— a  st\- e  much  resembling  my  painf/ng  in  oil.  Now, 
nevertheless,  I  will  recapitulate  and  note  down  as  quick- 
ly as  possible  the  primary  ones. 

•'  I.  I  removed  the  publication  of  my  ornithological 
work  from  Edinburgh  to  London  ;  fi-om  Mr.  Lizars  to 
Mr.  Robert  Havell,  No.  79  Newman  street ;  because  at 


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[60 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


Edinburgh  it  came  on  too  slowly,  and  also  because  I  cai: 
have  it  done  better  and  cheaper  in  London. 

**  2.  The  King  1     My  dear  Book !     Had  my  work  pre 
sented  to  his  Majesty  by  Sir  Walter  Waller,  Bart,  K.  C 
II.,  at  the  request  of  my  most  excellent  friend  J.  P.  Chil 
dren,  of  the  British  Museum.     His  Majesty  was  pleased 
to  call  it  fine,  and  permitted  me  to  publish  it  under  his 
particular  patronage,  approbation,  and  protection ;  and 
became  a  subscriber  on  usual  terms,  not  as  kings  gener- 
ally do,  but  as  a  gentleman.     And  I  look  on  such  a  deed 
as  worthy  of  all  kings  in  general.     The  Duchess  of  Cla- 
rence also  put  down  her  name ;  and  all  my  friends  speak 
as  if  a  mountain  of  sovereigns  had  dropped  in  an  ample 
purse  at  once — and  for  me  /" 


* 


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CHAPTER  XII. 

Visit  to  Paris  —  Baron  Cuvier  —  Reception  at  the  Acadeniv  of  Scv 
ences—  Visits  to  Great  Officials —  Pffverty  of  French  Academy  — 
More  of  Ctevier  and  his  Home  —  Great  Gathering  at  the  Institute  — 
The  Report  quoted —  The  Duke  of  Orleans  —  Farewell  to  France. 

N  September  ist,  i828,  Audubon  quitted  London 
for  Paris,  and  his  diary  freshens  a  little  after  the 
salt  breeze  of  the  Channel.  Much  space,  how- 
ever, is  as  usual  devoted  to  matters  quite  trivial  in  them- 
selves, and  not  likely  to  interest  any  circle  beyond  the 
little  domestic  one  for  which  the  pages  were  intended. 
The  enjojrment  of  fresh  scenes  is  youthful  and  honest — 
quite  unlike  the  pleasure  of  more  sophisticated  persons. 
On  arriving  in  Paris,  his  first  visit  was  to  the  Jardin 
des  Plantes,  and  to  the  great  Cuvier.  We  shall  select  in 
series  his  notes  on  this  and  other  matters,  suppressing,  as 
before,  all  the  utterly  pointless  matter  which  fills  up  the 
diary  under  so  many  a  date. 

"  We  knocked,  and  asked  for  Baron  Cuvier :  he  was 
in,  but  we  were  told  was  too  busy  to  be  seen.  However, 
being  determined  to  look  at  the  great  man,  we  waited  and 
knocked  again,  and  with  a  degree  of  firmness  sent  up 
our  names.  The  messenger  returned,  bowed  and  i  ^d  us 
upstairs,  where,  in  a  minute.  Monsieur  le  Baron,  like  an 
excellent  good  man,  came  to  us.  He  had  heard  much  of 
my  fi-iend  Swainson,  and  greeted  him  as  he  deserves,  and 
was  polite  and  kind  to  me,  although  he  had  never  heard 
of  me  before.  I  looked  at  him,  and  here  follows  the  re- 
sult Age  about  sixty-five  ;  size,  corpulent,  five  feet  and 
five,  English  measure ;    head  large,   face   wrinkled   and 


( 


r     rr 


:|^ 


162 


Life  of  Audubon, 


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brownish ;  eyes,  very  brilliant  and  sparkling ;  nose, 
aquiline,  large,  and  red  ;  mouth,  large,  with  good  lips  ; 
teeth,  few,  and  blunted  by  age,  excepting  one  on  the  low- 
er jaw,  which  was  massive,  measuring  nearly  three-quar- 
ters of  an  inch  square.  This  was  Baron  Cuvier  ;  I  have 
described  him  almost  as  if  a  neu>  species  of  a  man,  from 
the  mere  skin.  But  as  he  has  invited  us  to  dine  with 
him  next  Saturday  at  six  o'clock,  and  I  expect  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  more  of  him,  I  will  then  describe 
his  habits  as  far  as  I  am  able. 

*^  September  5.  After  a  breakfast  of  grapes,  figs, 
sardines,  and  French  coffee,  friend  Swainson  and  I  pro- 
ceeded to  the  Jardin  des  Plantes,  by  the  side  of  the  river 
Seine,  which  here,  Lucy,  is  not  so  large  as  the  Bayou 
Sara,  where  I  have  often  watched  the  alligators  while 
bathing.  Walking  in  Paris  is  disagreeable  in  the  ex- 
treme. The  streets  are  actually  paved,  but  with  scarcely 
a  sidewalk,  and  a  large  gutter  filled  with  dirty  black  wa- 
ter runs  through  the  centre  of  each,  and  the  people  go 
about  without  any  kind  of  order,  either  along  the  centre, 
or  near  the  houses  ;  carriages,  carts,  and  so  forth  do  the 
same,  and  I  have  wondered  that  so  few  accidents  take 
place.  We  saw  a  very  ugly  iron  bridge  at  the  entrance 
called  Pont  Neuf,  where  stands  the  splendid  statue  of 
Henry  IV.  We  were  more  attracted,  however,  by  the 
sight  of  the  immense  number  of  birds  otfored  for  sale 
along  the  quays,  and  saw  some  rare  specimens.  A 
woman  took  us  into  her  house,  and  showed  us  some  hun- 
dreds from  Bengal  and  Senegal,  which  quite  surprised  us. 

"Weary  with  walking,  we  took  a  cabriolet,  that 
brought  us  for  twenty-five  sous,  to  the  Jardin,  and  we  went 
to  our  appointment  with  Baron  Cuvier.  We  saw  him,  and 
he  gave  us  a  ticket  to  admit  us  to  the  Mus^e,  and  prom- 
ised us  ill  we  W7"^ed.  In  the  Musde,  M.  Valencienne  was 
enualiy  kind.     Having  in  my  pocket  a  letter  of  introduc 


1:1 


Baron  Cuvier, 


•6j 


lion  to  Geoflroy  de  St.  Hilaire,  we  went  to  his  house  in 
the  gardens,  and  with  him  we  were  particularly  pleased. 
Tie  offered  his  services  with  good  grace,  much  as  an  Eng- 
lish gentleman  would  have  done.  M.  GeofTroy  proved  to 
us  that  he  understood  the  difference  of  ideas  existing  be- 
tween English  and  Frenchmen  perfectly.  He  repeated 
the  words  of  Cuvier,  and  assured  us  that  my  work  had 
never  been  heard  of  anywhere  in  France.  He  promised 
to  take  us  to  the  Academy  of  Sciences  on  Monday  next. 
"  We  finally  reached  home,  dressed,  and  started  to 
dine  with  Baron  Cuvier.  We  arrived  within  a  minute  of 
the  appointed  time,  were  announced  by  a  servant  in  liv- 
ery, as  in  England,  and  the  Baion  received  and  presented 
us  kindly  to  his  only  daughter,  a  small,  well-made,  good- 
looking  lady,  with  black  sparkling  eyes,  and  altogether 
extremely  amiable.  As  I  seldom  go  anywhere  without 
meeting  some  person  I  have  known  elsewhere,  so  it 
proved  here.  I  found  among  the  company  which  had 
arrived  before  me  a  Fellow  of  the  Linnaean  Society,  who 
knew  me,  and  who  seemed  to  have  spoken  to  the  Baron 
and  his  daughter  of  my  work  ;  and  I  now  perceived  a  de- 
gree of  attention  from  him  which  I  had  not  noticed  at  my 
first  interview.  The  Baroness  came  in,  an  old,  good, 
motherly-looking  lady,  and  the  company,  sixteen  in  num- 
ber, being  present,  dinner  was  announced.  The  Baroness 
led  the  way  with  a  gentleman,  the  Baron  took  his  daugh- 
ter under  his  arm,  but  made  Mr.  Swainson  and  myself  go 
before  him ;  and  so  the  company  all  followed.  Mr. 
Swainson  was  seated  next  to  Mademoiselle  Cuvier,  who, 
fortunately  for  him,  speaks  excellent  English.  I  was  op- 
posite her,  by  the  side  of  the  Baron,  and  had  at  my  right 
elbow  the  F.  L.  S.  There  was  not  the  same  show  of 
opulence  at  this  dinner  that  I  have  seen  in  the  same 
rank  in  England — no,  not  by  any  means  ;  but  we  had  a 
good  dinner,  served  k  la  Fran^aise  :   all   seemed  happy. 


4 


II 


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If 


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V 

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164 


Life  of  Audubon. 


li 


if 


and  all  went  on  with  more  simplicity  than  in  London. 
The  waiter  who  handed  the  wine  called  out  the  names  ol 
three  cr  four  different  sorts,  and  each  person  had  his 
choice.  The  dinner  finished  (I  mean  the  eating  part), 
the  Baroness  rose,  and  all  followed  her  into  the  draw- 
ing room,  which  is  the  library  of  the  Baron ;  and  I 
liked  it  much,  for  I  cannot  bear  the  drinking-matches 
of  wine  at  the  English  tables.  We  had  coffee,  and 
the  company  increased  rapidly;  and  among  the  new 
comers  were  my  acquaintances  Captain  Parry,  Monsieur 
Condillot,  and  Mr.  Lesson,  just  returned  from  a  voyage 
round  the  world.  Cuvier  stuck  to  Mr.  Swainson  and  my- 
self, and  we  tallied  ornithology :  he  asked  the  price  of 
my  work,  and  I  gave  him  a  prospectus.  The  company 
now  filled  the  room,  and  as  it  grew  late,  and  we  had  near- 
ly five  miles  to  ride  we  left  \  la  Fran^aise,  very  well  satis- 
fied with  this  introductory  step  among  the  savans  Fran- 
9ais. 

"  September  8.  Went  to  pay  my  respects  to  Baron 
Cuvier  and  Geoffroy  St.  Hilaire ;  found  only  the  former 
at  home ;  he  invited  me  to  the  Royal  Institute,  and  I  had 
just  time  to  return  home  and  reach  it  before  the  sitting 
of  the  Royal  Acad^mie  des  Sciences.  I  took  my  port- 
folio, and,  on  entering,,  inquired  for  Cuvier,  who  very 
politely  came  to  kne,  made  the  porter  put  my  book  on 
the  table,  and  assigned  me  a  seat  of  honor.  The  stance 
opened,  and  a  tedious  lecture  was  delivered  on  the  vision 
of  the  mole.  Mr.  Swainson  accompanied  me.  Baron 
Cuvier  then  arose,  and  announced  us  and  spoke  of  my 
work.  It  was  shown  and  admired  as  usual,  and  Cuvier 
was  requested  to  review  it  for  the  memoirs  of  the  Acade- 
my. Cuvier  asked  me  to  leave  my  book.  I  d'.d,  and  he 
commended  it  to  the  particular  care  of  the  librarians, 
who  are  to  show  it  to  any  who  desire  to  see  it ;  he  also 
said  he  would  propose  to  the  Academy  to  subscribe  to  it 
and  if  so,  it  will  be  a  good  day's  work. 


The  Louvre. 


i6j 


" September  9.  Went  to  the  Jardin  du  Roi,  where  I  rnel 
young  Geoffrey,  who  took  me  to  a  man  who  stuffs  birds 
for  the  Prince  d'Essling.  He  toKl  me  the  Prince  had  a 
copy  of  my  work  (probably  Wilson's  or  Selby's),  and 
said  he  would  subscribe  if  I  would  call  on  him  to-mor- 
row with  him.  After  this  I  walked  around  the  boule- 
vards, looking  at  the  strange  things  I  saw  there,  thinking 
of  my  own  strange  life,  and  how  wonderful  my  present 
situation  in  the  land  of  my  father  and  ancestors.  From 
here  I  went  to  the  Louvre,  and  as  I  was  about  to  pass  the 
gates  of  the  Tuileries,  a  sentinel  stopped  me,  saying  no 
one  could  enter  there  with  a  fur  cap.  I  went  to  another 
gate,  and  passed  without  challenge,  and  went  to  the 
Grand  Gallery.  There,  among  the  Raphaels,  and  Cor- 
reggios,  Titians,  Davids,  and  thousands  of  others,  I 
feasted  my  eyes  and  enlarged  my  knowledge.  From 
there  I  made  my  way  to  the  Institut  de  France,  and  by 
appointment  presented  my  prospectus  to  the  secretary  of 
the  library.  There  I  met  young  Geoffroy,  an  amiable 
and  learned  young  man,  who  examined  my  work,  paid 
me  ever}'  attention,  and  gave  me  a  room  to  myself  for  the 
inspection  of  specimens  and  to  write  in.  How  ve»7  dif- 
ferent from  the  public  institutions  in  England,  where, 
instead  of  being  bowed  to,  you  have  to  bow  to  every  one. 
The  porters,  clerks,  and  secretaries  had  all  received  orders 
to  do  everything  I  required,  and  I  was  looked  upon  with 
the  greatest  respect.  I  have  now  run  the  gauntlet  of 
Europe,  Lucy,  and  may  be  proud  of  two  things — that  I 
am  considered  the  first  ornithological  painter  and  the 
first  practical  naturalist  of  America  ! 

"  September  10.  Called  on  the  bird-stuffer  of  the  Prince 
d'Esslii^l?,  who  proposed  to  take  me  to  the  Prince's  town 
residence.  We  were  conducted  into  his  museum,  which 
surpasses  in  magnificence,  and  in  the  number  of  rare 
specimens  of  birds,  shells,  ^nd  books,  all  I  have  ye? 


(■ 


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■  I 

I  ij'lll; 

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li 

'■  'i' .!  i 
i  it:.i,  ■ 

166 


Life  of  Audubon, 


seen.  We  stroned  about  for  a  while,  when  word  was 
sent  us,  that  the  Prince  being  indisposed,  we  must  go  to 
him.  I  took  my  pamphlet  in  my  hand,  and  entered  a 
fine  room,  where  he  lay  reclining  on  a  sofa ;  but  on 
seeing  me,  he  rose  up,  bowed,  and  presented  me  to  his 
beautiful  young  wife.  While  untying  my  book,  both  of 
them  asked  ine  some  questions,  and  looked  at  me  with 
seeming  curiosity ;  but  as  soon  as  a  print  was  seen,  they 
both  exclaimed,  *Ah,  c'est  bien  beau  !'  and  then  asked 
me  if  I  did  not  know  Charles  Bonaparte.  And  when  I 
answered  *  Yes,'  they  both  again  said,  *  Ah,  it  is  the  same 
gentleman  of  whom  we  have  heard  so  much,  the  Man  of 
the  Woods;  the  drawings  are  all  marl'  by  him,'  etc.  The 
Prince  suid  that  he  regretted  very  much  that  so  few  per- 
sons in  France  were  able  to  subscribe  to  such  a  work, 
and  tha'  must  not  expect  more  than  six  or  eight  names 
in  Paris.  He  named  all  those  whom  he  or  his  lady  knew, 
and  told  me  it  would  give  him  pleasure  to  add  his  name 
to  my  list.  I  drew  it  out,  opened  it,  and  asked  him  to 
write  it  himself :  this  he  did  witli  a  good  grace,  next 
under  the  Duke  of  Rutland.  This  Prince,  son  of  the 
famous  Marshal  Massena,  is  thirty  years  of  age,  appa- 
rently delicate,  pale,  slender,  and  yet  good-looking, 
entirely  devoted  to  Natural  History.  His  wife  is  a 
beautiful  young  woman  of  about  twenty,  extremely  grace- 
ful and  polite.  They  both  complimented  me  on  the 
purity  of  my  French,  and  wished  me  all  the  success  I 
deserved.  I  went  back  to  my  friend  in  the  cabinet,  well 
contented,  and  we  returned  to  our  lodgings.  Not  liking 
our  rooms  at  our  hotel,  to-day  I  shall  remove  to  the  Hotel 
de  France,  where  I  have  a  large,  clean,  and  comfortable 
room,  and  pay  twenty-five  sous  per  day.  But  I  must  tell 
thee  that  in  France,  although  a  man  may  be  a  prince  or 
duke,  he  is  called  simply  monsieur,  and  his  lady,  madam, 
and  all  are  as  easy  of  access  as  men  without  a  gical 


w^ 


Library  of  the  King. 


167 


name  :    this  made  me  quite   ;.t  my  ease  with  Prince 
U'Essling. 

"  September  11.  I  have  been  travelling  all  over  Paris 
to-d;iy,  and  have  accomplished  nothing.  Called  on  M. 
Geoffroy  St.  Hiljire,  and  he  gave  me  some  good  advice 
iind  directions  respecting  obtaining  the  Ring's  subscrip 
tion,  and  others. 

^^  September  12.  Visited,  at  his  library,  the  librarian 
of  the  king,  M.  Van  Praet,  a  small  and  white-haired  gen- 
tleman, who  assured  me  in  the  politest  manner  imagina- 
ble that  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  sub  ribe  for  so 
heavy  a  work.  He  however  gave  me  a  card  to  introduce 
me  to  M.  Barbier,  a  librarian  belonging  to  the  king's  pri- 
vate library  at  the  Louvre.  Here  I  learned  that  the  inland 
postage  of  a  single  letter  from  Paris  to  London  is  twenty- 
four  sous ;  there  is  a  mail  to  London  four  times  u  week. 
After  some  trouble  I  found  the  library  of  the  king,  be- 
cause I  followed  the  direction  '  toujours  tout  droit,'  until 
quite  out  of  latitude  and  longitude  by  tacking  and  retack- 
ing ;  but  at  last  I  reached  the  place,  and  entered  a  gate 
fronting  the  river,  and  found  M.  Barbier  absent.  But 
later  in  the  day  I  found  him ;  and  he,  not  being  able  to 
say  anything  definite  himself,  referred  me  to  the  Baron  de 
Boullerie,  intendant  of  the  king's  household.  I  wrote  to 
him  in  French,  the  first  letter  I  have  written  in  this  lan- 
guage in  twenty-five  years,  and  I  dare  say  a  very  curious 
one  to  such  a  personage  as  he  is. 

"  September  13.  Took  my  portfolio  to  Geoffroy  de 
St  Hilaire,  and  then  to  Baron  Cuvier;  the  former,  after 
examining  it,  retracted  his  opinion  respecting  its  size,  and 
expressed  himself  pleased  with  it.  A  Mons.  Dumesnil,  a 
French  engraver,  was  sent  to  me  by  Prince  d'Essling,  and 
I  learned  from  him  that  my  work  could  be  done  better  and 
at  less  expense  in  England  than  in  France.  Copper  is 
dearer  here  than  in  England,  and  good  colorers  much 


m 

1  ■  1 

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'11 

M 


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i68 


Lije  of  Auaufoon. 


more  scarce.  I  have  just  returned  with  friend  Swainson 
from  Baron  Cuvier's,  who  gives  receptions  to  scientific 
men  every  Saturday.  My  book  was  on  the  table,  and 
Cuvicr  received  me  with  especial  kindness,  and  put  me 
at  ease.  Mons.  Condillot  I  found  remarkably  amiable, 
and  the  company  was  much  the  same  as  on  last  Saturday. 
I  found  much  pleasure  in  conversation  with  Cuvier  and 
M.  de  Condillot.  The  former  willingly  assented  to  sit  to 
Mr.  Parker  for  his  portrait,  and  the  olher  told  me  if  I 
visited  Italy  I  must  make  his  house  my  home.  My  work 
was  examined,  and  Cuvier  pronounced  it  the  finest  in 
existence  of  the  kind.  As  we  attempted  to  make  our 
escape,  Cuvier  noticed  us,  ran  and  took  us  by  the  hand, 
and  wished  us  to  return ;  but  we  had  a  long  and  dark 
walk  before  us,  and  on  that  ground  excused  ourselves. 

^^ September  15.  France  is  poor  indeed!  This  day  1 
have  attended  the  Royal  Academy  of  Sciences,  and  had 
my  plates  examined  by  about  one  hundred  persons. 
'  Fine,  very  fine  !'  issued  from  many  mouths  ;  but  they 
said  also,  'What  a  work  I  what  a  price!  who  can  pay  it?' 
I  recollected  that  I  had  thirty  subscribers  at  Manches- 
ter, and  mentioned  it.  They  stared,  and  seemed  sur- 
prised ;  but  acknowledged  that  England,  the  little  islanc 
of  England,  alone  was  able  to  support  poor  Audubon. 
Some  went  so  far  as  to  say  that,  had  I  been  here 
four  months  ago,  I  should  not  have  had  even  the 
Prince  d'Essling  for  a  subscriber.  Poor  France,  thy 
fine  climate,  rich  vineyards,  and  the  wishes  of  the  learn- 
ed avail  nothing ;  thou  art  a  destitute  beggar,  and  not 
the  powerful  friend  thou  wert  represented  to  me.  Now 
it  is  that  I  plainly  see  how  happy,  or  lucky,  it  was 
in  me  not  to  have  come  to  France  first ;  for  if  I  had,  my 
work  now  would  not  have  had  even  a  beginning.  It 
would  have  perished  like  a  flower  in  October ;  and  I 
should  have  returned  to  my  woods,  without  the  hope  o\ 


;.  \ 


Baron  Cuvier, 


169 


>ons. 
they 
it?' 
hes- 
sur- 
lanc 
bon. 
here 
the 
thy 
learn- 
not 
Now 
was 
my 
It 
nd  I 
pe  ol 


leaving  behind  that  eternal  fame  which  my  ambition,  in* 
dustry,  and  perseverance,  long  to  enjoy.  Not  a  sub- 
scriber, Lucy  ;  no,  not  one  ' 

"  I  have  also  been  again  at  Cuvier's  to-day,  to  in- 
troduce Mr.  Parker,  to  begin  his  portrait.  You  would 
like  to  hear  more  of  Cuvier  and  his  house.  Well,  we 
rang  the  bell,  and  a  waiter  came,  and  desired  that  we 
would  wipe  our  feet ;  we  needed  it,  for  we  were  very 
muddy.  This  over,  we  followed  the  man  up-stairs,  and 
in  the  first  room  we  entered  I  saw  a  slight  figure  in  black 
gliding  out  at  an  opposite  door  like  a  sylph.  It  was  Miss 
Cuvier,  not  quite  ready  to  receive  company.  Off  she 
flew,  like  a  dove  before  falcons.  However,  we  followed 
our  man,  who  every  moment  turned  to  us  and  repeated, 
'  This  way,  gentlemen.'  Then  we  passed  through  eight 
rooms  filled  with  beds  or  books,  and  at  last  reached  a 
sort  of  laboratory,  the  sanctum  sanctorum  of  Cuvier ; 
nothing  there  but  books,  the  skeletons  of  animais,  and 
reptiles.  Our  conductor  bid  us  sit,  anfl  left  us  to  seek 
for  the  Baron.  My  eyes  were  occupied  in  the  interval  in 
examining  the  study  of  this  great  man,  and  my  mind  in 
reflecting  on  the  wonders  of  his  knowledge.  All  but  or- 
der was  about  his  books,  and  I  concluded  that  he  read 
and  studied,  and  was  not  fond  of  books  because  he  was 
the  owner  of  them,  as  some  great  men  seem  to  be  whom 
I  have  known.  Our  conductor  returned  directly,  and  led 
us  to  another  laboratory,  where  we  found  the  Baron. 
Great  men  show  politeness  in  a  particular  way ;  they  re- 
ceive you  without  much  demonstration ;  a  smile  suffices 
to  assure  you  that  you  are  welcome,  and  keep  about 
their  avocations  as  if  you  were  a  member  of  the  family." 
"Parker  was  introduced  while  Cuvier  was  looking  at  a 
small  lizard,  through  a  vial  of  spirits  that  contained  it.  I 
ee  now  his  speaking  eye,  half  closed,  as  if  quizzing 
its  qualities,  an  i  as  he  wrote  ts  name  with  a  pencil  on  a 


; 


-1( 


•yr^ 


170 


Life  of  Audubon. 


% 


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■'% 


% 


■■' 


il 


'II 


■^Mi 


1 

i 

1 

Mi 

H 

i 

"1 

label,  he  bowed  his  body  in  acquiescence.  *  Come  and 
breakfast  with  me,  Mr.  Parker,  on  Thursday  next,  at  ten 
o'clock,  and  I  will  be  your  man ;'  and  on  he  went  quizzing 
more  lizards. 

"  September  18.  Went  with  Parker  to  Baron  Cuvier's. 
We  met  Miss  Cuvier,  who  had  made  all  preparations  to  re- 
ceive us.  The  Baron  came  in  and  seated  himself  in  a 
comfortable  arm-chair.  Great  men,  as  well  as  greiit 
women,  have  their  share  of  vanity,  and  I  soon  discovered 
that  the  Baron  thinks  himself  a  fine-looking  man.  His 
daughter  seemed  to  understand  this,  and  remarked  more 
than  once,  that  her  father  had  his  under  lip  much  more 
swelled  than  usual ;  and  she  added  that  the  line  of  his 
nose  was  extremely  fine.  I  passed  my  fingers  over  mine, 
and,  lo !  I  thought  just  the  same.  I  see  the  Baron  now 
quite  as  plainly  as  I  did  this  morning,  an  old  green 
surtout  about  him,  a  neckcloth,  that  would  have  wrapped 
his  whole  body  if  unfolded,  loosely  tied  about  his  chin, 
and  his  silver  Idbks  looking  like  those  of  a  man  who 
loves  to  study  books  better  than  to  visit  barbers.  His 
fine  eye  glistened  from  under  his  thick  eyebrows,  and  he 
smiled  as  he  spoke  to  me.  Miss  Cuvier  is  a  most  agree- 
able lady,  and  opening  a  book,  she  asked  to  read  aloud 
to  us  all ;  and  on  she  went  in  a  clear,  well-accented  tone, 
from  a  comic  play,  well  calculated  to  amuse  us  for  the 
time,  and  during  the  monotony  of  sitting  for  a  portrait, 
which  is  always  a  great  bore.  Mrs.  Cuvier  joined  us,  and 
I  noticed  her  expression  was  one  of  general  sadness,  and 
she  listened  with  a  melancholy  air  that  depressed  my  own 
spirits.  The  Baron  soon  expressed  himself  fatigued,  and 
went  out,  and  I  advised  Parker  to  keep  him  as  short  a 
time  as  possible.  We  were  in  one  of  his  libraries,  and 
he  asked  his  daughter  to  show  us  two  portraits  ./  himself, 
painted  some  ten  years  a^o.  They  were  only  so  so. 
Meanwhile  the  Baron  named  next  Thursday  for  another 
.sitting, 


f 


Redoute 


171 


"  September  20.  This  morning  I  had  the  pleasure  ol 
seeing  the  venerable  Redout^,  the  flower-painter /drr^vV^/- 
lence.  After  reading  Lesueur's  note  to  him,  dated  five 
years  ago,  he  looked  at  me  fixedly,  and  said,  •  Well,  sir,  I 
am  truly  glad  to  become  acquainted  with  you  ;'  and  with- 
out further  ceremony  he  showed  me  his  best  works.  His 
flowers  are  grouped  with  peculiar  taste,  well  drawn  and 
precise  in  the  outlines,  and  colored  with  a  pure  brilliancy, 
which  resembles  Nature  immeasurably  better  than  I  ever 
saw  it  before.  Redout(^  dislikes  all  that  is  not  pure  Na- 
ture ;  he  cannot  bear  drawings  of  stuffed  birds  or 
quadrupeds,  and  expressed  a  desire  to  see  a  work  where- 
in Nature  is  delineated  in  an  animated  way.  He  said  he 
dined  every  Friday  at  the  Duke  of  Orleans'  ;  he 
would  take  my  work  there  next  week,  and  obtain  his  sub- 
scription, if  not  the  Duchess'  also.  He  asked  for  a  pro- 
spectus, and  invited  me  to  return  tiext  Wednesday.  I 
looked  over  hundreds  of  his  drawings,  and  learned  that 
he  sold  them  at  high  prices,  some  as  high  as  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  guineas.  On  my  way  home  I  met  the  sec- 
retary of  the  king's  library,  who  told  me  that  the  Baron  de 
la  Boullerie  had  given  orders  to  have  my  work  inspected, 
and  if  approved,  to  subscribe  for  it.  I  have  found  that 
letters  of  introduction  are  not  as  useful  here  as  in  Eng- 
land. Cuvier,  to  whom  I  had  no  letter,  and  to  whom  my 
name  was  unknown  before  my  arrival,  is  the  only  man  who 
has  yet  invited  me  to  his  house.  I  wished  to  go  this 
evening  to  his  scientific  soirde,  to  which  he  invited  me, 
but  I  did  not,  because  I  have  been  two  successive  Sat- 
urdays, and  I  am  afraid  of  intruding,  although  the  rude 
awkwardness  I  formerly  felt  has  worn  nearly  smooth. 

^'■September  22.  This  was  the  grand  day  appointed 
by  Baron  Cuvier  for  reading  his  report  on  my  work  at  the 
French  Institute.  The  French  Institute !  Shall  I  call 
it  superior  to  the  Royal  Academy  of  London  ?     I  cannot 


i**  ''I 


SI 

T- 

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i'l 

; 

i' 

■'i 


% 


172 


Life  of  Auduhon. 


better  answer  the  interrogation,  than  by  the  reports  ol 
the  presidents  of  these  institutions  on  my  work.  By  par 
ticular  invitation  of  the  Baron,  I  was  at  the  Institute  at 
half-past  one,  and  no  Baron  there.  I  sat  opposite  the 
clock,  and  counted  the  minutes  one  after  another ;  but 
the  clock,  insensible  to  my  impatience,  moved  regularly, 
and  ticked  its  time  just  as  it  Audubon  had  never  existed. 
I  undertook  to  count  the  numerous  volumes  which  filled 
the  compartments  of  the  library,  but  my  eye  became  be 
wildered,  and  as  it  reached  the  distant  centre  of  the  hall^ 
rested  on  the  figure  of  Voltaire  !  Poor  Voltaire  !  had 
he  not  his  own  share  of  troubles  ?  how  was  he  treated  ? 
Savants  like  shadows  passed  before  me,  nodded,  and 
proceeded  to  their  seats,  and  resting  their  heads  on  their 
hands,  looked  for  more  knowledge  in  different  memoirs. 
I,  Lucy,  began  journeying  to  America,  sailed  up  its  riv- 
ers, across  its  lakes,  along  its  coasts,  and  up  the  Missis- 
sippi, until  I  reached  Bayou  Sara,  and  leaping  on  shore, 
and  traversing  the  magnolia  forests,  bounded  towards 
thee,  my  dearest  friend, — when  the  clock  struck,  and  sud- 
denly called  me  to  myself  in  the  Royal  Institute,  patient- 
ly waiting  for  the  Baron. 

"  The  number  of  savants  increased,  and  my  watch  and 
the  clock  told  that  the  day  was  waning.  I  took  a  book 
and  read,  but  it  vvent  into  my  mind  and  left  no  impres- 
sion. The  savants  increased  more  and  more,  and  by-and- 
by  among  them  my  quick  eye  discerns  the  Baron.  I  had 
been  asked  fifty  times  if  I  were  waiting  for  him,  and  had 
been  advised  to  go  to  his  house  ;  but  I  sat  and  watched 
like  a  sentinel  at  his  post.  I  heard  his  voice  and  his 
footstep,  and  at  last  saw  him,  warm,  apparently  fatigued, 
and  yet  extremely  kindly,  coming  towards  me,  with  a 
*  My  dear  sir,  I  am  sorry  to  know  that  you  have  waited  so 
long  here  ;  I  was  in  my  cabinet;  come  with  me.'  During 
oil  this  talk,  to  which  I  bowed,  and  followed  him,  his  hand 


The  *^  Instituie  Subscribes. 


'73 


was  driving  a  pencil  with  great  rapidity,  and  I  discov 
ered  that  he  was  actually  engaged  in  making  his  report. 
I  thought  of  La  Fontaine's  *  Fable  of  the  Turtle  and  the 
Hare,*  and  of  many  other  things  ;  and  I  was  surprised 
that  so  great  a  man,  who,  of  course,  being  great,  must 
take  care  of  each  of  his  actions  with  a  thousand  times 
more  care  than  a  common  individual,  to  prevent  falls, 
when  surrounded,  as  all  great  men  are,  by  envy,  cow- 
ardice, malice,  and  all  other  evil  spirits,  should  leave  to 
the  last  moment  the  writing  of  a  report,  to  every  word  of 
which  the  '  Forty  of  France'  would  lend  a  critical  ear.  We 
were  now  in  his  cabinet ;  my  enormous  book  lay  before 
him,  and  I  shifted  swiftly  the  different  plates  that  he  had 
marked  for  examination.  His  pencil  kept  constantly 
moving ;  he  turned  and  returned  the  sheets  of  his 
pamphlet  with  amazing  accuracy,  and  noted  as  quickly  as 
he  saw  all  that  he  saw.  We  were  both  wet  with  perspira- 
tion. When  this  was  done,  he  invited  me  to  call  on  him 
to-morrow  at  half-past  ten,  and  went  off  towards  the 
council-room. 

"  September  23.  I  waited  in  Cuvier's  departmental 
section  until  past  eleven,  when  he  came  in,  as  much  in  a 
hurry  as  ever,  and  yet  as  kind  as  ever,  always  the  per- 
fect gentleman.  The  report  had  been  read,  and  the  In- 
stitute, he  said,  had  subscribed  for  one  copy  ;  and  he 
told  me  the  report  would  appear  in  next  Saturday's 
'  Globe.*  I  called  on  M.  Feuillet,  principal  librarian  of 
the  Institute,  to  inquire  how  I  was  to  receive  tbe  sub- 
scription. He  is  a  large,  stout  man,  had  on  a  hunting- 
cap,  and  began  by  assuring  me  that  the  Institute  was  in 
the  habit  of  receiving  a  discount  on  all  the  works  it  takes. 
My  upper  lip  curled,  not  with  pleasure,  but  with  a  sneer 
at  such  a  request ;  and  I  told  the  gentleman  that  I  nev- 
er made  discounts  on  a  work  which  cost  me  a  life  of  much 
trouble  and  too  much  expense  ever  to  be  remunerated  ; 
so  the  matter  dropped. 


1!  «:• 


i 


.  { 


1  i 


i  ■ 


>.i  I  ! 


i' 


81  ,:t! 
'■'Hi 

•  ir  fiij 


I 


1     :?li 


fi. 


fW'. 


Li;i 


iMi 


174 


Life  of  Audubon. 


^^  September  24.  To-day  I  was  told  that  Geiard,  the 
great  Gerard,  the  pupil  of  my  old  master  David,  wished 
to  see  me  and  my  works.  I  propose  to  visit  him  to-mor- 
row. 

"6<?  temher  25.  I  have  trotted  from  pillar  to  post 
through  this  big  town,  from  the  Palais  Royal  to  the  Jar- 
din  du  Luxembourg,  in  search  of  Mons.  Le  Mdddcin  Ber- 
trand,  after  a  copy  of  Cuvier's  Report  \  such  is  man,  all 
avaricious  of  praise  by  nature.  Three  times  did  I  go  to 
the  *  Globe '  office,  from  places  three  miles  apart,  until  at 
last,  wearied  and  bror  :'ht  to  bay,  I  gave  up  the  chase. 
At  last  I  went  to  the  I  rg's  library,  and  I  learned  from 
the  librarian,  a  perfect  entleman,  that  the  court  had  in- 
spected my  work,  and  were  delighted  with  it ;  and  he  told 
me  that  kings  were  not  generally  expected  to  pay  for 
works  j  and  I  gave  him  to  understand  that  I  was  able 
to  keep  the  work  if  the  king  did  not  purchase. 

"  To-day  I  saw  the  original  copy  of  Cuvier's  report  on 
my  work.  It  is  quite  an  eulo  n,  but  not  as  feelingly 
written  as  Mr.  Swainson's  ;  nevertheless,  it  will  give  the 
French  an  idea  of  my  work,  and  may  do  good. 

"  The  following  is  an  extract  translated  from  the  re- 
port : — 

"  *  The  Academy  of  Sciences  have  requested  me  to 
make  a  verbal  report  on  the  work  of  Mr.  Audubon,  laid 
before  it  at  a  former  session,  on  the  "Birds  of  North 
America."  It  may  be  described  in  a  few  words  as  the 
most  magnificient  monument  which  has  yet  been  erected 
to  ornithology.  The  author,  born  in  Louisiana,  ^^nd  devot- 
ed from  his  youth  to  painting,  was  twenty-five  years  ago 
a  pupil  in  the  school  of  David.  Having  returned  to  his 
own  country,  he  thought  he  could  not  make  a  better  use  of 
his  talents  than  by  representing  the  most  brilliant  pro- 
ductions of  that  hemisphere.  The  accurate  observation 
necessary  for  such  reprp.seatatianf)  as  he  wished  to  make 
IQon  rendered  him  a natanilist. 


.1 


Report  of  the  Academy, 


»75 


ike 


"  *  It  is  in  this  double  capacity  of  artist  and  savant 
that  he  produced  the  work,  which  has  been  offered  to  the 
inspection  of  the  Academy.  You  have  been  struck  i>y 
the  si 'e  of  the  book,  which  is  equal  or  superior  to  the 
iarfe  "^t  of  that  kind  that  has  ever  been  published,  and  is 
nearly  as  large  as  the  double  plates  of  the  Description  ol 
Egypt.  This  extraordinary  dimension  has  enabled  him 
to  give  specimens  of  the  eagle  and  vulture  of  their  natu- 
ral size,  and  to  multiply  those  which  are  smaller  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  represent  them  in  every  attitude. 

"  *  He  was  thus  able  to  represent  on  the  same  plates, 
and  of  the  natural  size,  the  plants  which  these  birds  most 
commonly  frequent,  and  to  give  the  fullest  detail  of  their 
nests  and  eggs. 

^* '  The  execution  of  these  plates,  so  remarkable  for 
their  size,  appears  to  have  succeeded  equally  well  with 
regard  to  the  dra.ving,  the  engraving,  ajid  the  coloring. 
And  although  it  is  difficult  in  coloring  to  give  perspec- 
tives with  as  much  effect  as  in  painting,  properly  so  call- 
ed, that  is  no  defect  in  a  work  on  natural  history.  Natu- 
ralists prefer  the  real  color  of  objects  to  those  accidental 
tints  which  are  the  result  of  the  varied  reflections  of  light 
necessary  to  complete  picturesque  representations,  but 
foreign  and  even  injurious  to  scientific  truth. 

"  *  Mr.  Audubon  has  already  prepared  four  hundred 
drawings,  which  contain  nearly  two  thousand  figures,  and 
he  proposes  to  publish  them  successively  if  he  receives 
sufficient  encouragem'^">f  from  lovers  of  science.  A  work 
conceived  and  executed  on  so  vast  a  plan  has  but  one 
fault,  and  doubtless  in  that  respect  my  auditors  have  al- 
ready anticipated  me  ;  it  is  that  its  expense  renders  it  al- 
most inaccessible  to  the  greater  pan  of  those  to  whom  it 
would  be  most  necessary.  It  certainly  cannot  be  said 
thaf  the  price  is  exorbitant.  One  number  of  five  plates 
costs  two    guineas ;   er>ch   plate  comes  to  only  ten  or 


If 


1 
'I 


'i' 


^i'i 


ir' 


.      "^"fw 


B'    'I 


E*    '    f 


176 


Life    ^'  Auduhon, 


twelve  francs.  As  there  will  be  published  but  five  num- 
bers a  year,  the  annual  expense  would  not  be  enormous. 
It  is  desirable,  at  least  for  art  as  well  as  science,  that  the 
great  public  libraries — and  the  wealthy,  who  love  to  en 
rich  their  collections  with  works  of  luxury — should  be 
willing  to  secure  it 

"  *  Formerly  the  European  naturalists  were  obliged  to 
make  known  to  America  the  riches  she  possessed ;  but 
now  Mitchell,  Harler,  and  Bonaparte  give  back  with  in- 
terest to  Europe  what  America  had  received.  Wilson's 
history  of  the  "  Birds  of  the  United  States  "  equals  in  el- 
egance our  most  beautiful  works  on  ornithology.  If  that 
of  Mr.  Audubon  should  be  completed,  we  shall  be  obliged 
to  acknowledge  that  America,  in  magnificence  of  execu- 
tion, has  surpassed  the  old  world.' 

"  Sc'Pijmber  30.  Mr.  Coutant,  the  great  engraver  ot 
Paris,  came  to  see  my  work  to-day.  When  I  opened  the 
book  he  stared ;  and  as  I  turned  over  the  engravings,  he 
exclaimed  often  *  Oh,  mon  Dieu  !  quel  ouvrage  ! '  Old 
Redoutt?  also  visited  me,  and  brought  an  answer  to  my 
letter  from  the  Due  d'Orleans.  At  one  o'clock  I  went 
with  my  portfolio  to  the  Palais  Royal ;  and  as  I  do  not 
see  dukes  every  day,  dearest,  I  will  give  you  an  account 
of  my  visit. 

"  The  Palais  Royal  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  is  actually 
the  entrance  of  the  Palais  Royal,  the  public  walk  to 
which  we  go  almost  every  evening,  and  which  is  guarded 
by  many  sentinels.  On  the  right  I  saw  a  large,  fat,  red- 
coated  man,  through  the  ground  wmdow,  whom  I  sup- 
posed to  be  the  porter  of  his  Royal  Highness  :  he  opened 
the  door,  and  I  took  off  my  fur  cap,  and  walked  in  with- 
out ceremony.  I  gave  him  my  card,  and  requested  him 
to  send  it  up-stairs.  He  said  Monseigneur  was  not  in, 
but  I  might  go  into  the  antechamber,  and  I  ascended 
one  of  the  finest  staircases  my  feet  had  ever  trod.     They 


!'■ 


^he  Duke  of  Orleans. 


177 


parted  at  the  bottom,  in  a  Founding  form  of  about  twenty- 
four  feet  in  breadth,  to  meet  on  the  second-floor,  on  a 
platform,  lighted  by  a  skylight,  showing  the  beauties  of 
the  surrounding  walks,  and  in  front  of  which  were  three 
doors,  two  of  which  I  tried  in  vain  to  open.     The  third, 
however,  gave  way,  and  I  found  myself  in  the  outer  ante- 
chamber, with  about  tv;elve  servants,  who  all  rose  up  and 
stood  until  I  seated  myself  on  a  soft,  red,  velvet-covered 
bench.     Not  a  word  was  said  to  me,  and  I  gazed  on  the 
men  and  place  with  a  strange  sensation  of  awkwardness. 
Tlie  walls  were  bare,  the  floor  black  and  white  squares 
of  mirble,  over  which  a  sergeant  paced,  wearing  a  broad 
belt.     I  waited    some  minutes,  looking  on   this   dumb 
show,  and  wondering  how  long  it  would  last,  when  I  ac- 
costed the  sergeant,  and  told  him  I  wished  to  see  the 
duke,  and  that  I  had  come  here  by  his  order.     He 
made  a  profound  bow,  and  conducted  nie   to   another 
room,  where  several  gentlemen  were  seated  writing.     I 
told  one  of  them  my  errand,  and  he  immediately  showed 
me  into  an  immense  and  elegantly-furnished  apartment, 
and  ordered  my  book  to  be  brought  up.     In  this  room  I 
bowed  to  two  gentlemen  whom  I  knew  belonged  to  the 
Legion  of  Honor,  and  walked  about,  examining  the  fine 
marble  statues  and  pictures.     A  gentleman  soon  entered 
the  room,  and  coming  towards  me  with   an   agreeable 
smile,  asked  if  perchance  my  name  was  Audubon.     I 
bowed,  and  he  replied,  *  Bless  me,  we  thought  you  had 
gone,  and  left  your  portfolio.     My  uncle  has  been  wait- 
ing for  you  twenty  minutes  ,•  pray,  sir,  follow  me.'     We 
entered  another  room,  and  I  saw  the  duke  approaching 
me,  and  was  introduced  to  him  by  his  nephew.     I  do  not 
recollect  ever  having  seen  a  finer  man,  in  form,  deport- 
ment, and  elegant  manners,  than  this  Duke  of  Orleans. 
He  had  my  book  brought  in,  and  helped  me  to  untie  the 
strings  and  arrange  the  table,  and  began  by  saying  thaf 
8* 


>    I.' 


: 
ill' 


I     ' 


VM; 


■i 

i 

'llli 

ill 

,f : 

n 

; 

1 

•1 

1I 


I'.N 


i   ' T^ 


I   l! 


178 


Life  of  Audubon, 


\ 


he  felt  a  great  pleasure  in  subscribing  to  the  work  of  an 
American  ;  that  he  had  been  kindly  treated  in  the  United 
States,  and  would  never  foTget  it.  When  the  portfolio 
jvas  opened,  and  I  held  up  the  plate  of  the  Baltimore 
oriole,  with  a  nest  swinging  amongst  the  tender  twigs  of 
the  yellow  poplar,  he  said,  '  This  surpasses  all  I  have 
seen,  and  I  am  not  astonished  now  at  the  eulogium  of  M. 
Redoutd'  He  spoke  partly  in  English  and  partly  in 
French,  and  said  much  of  America,  of  Pittsburg,  the 
Ohio,  New  Orleans,  the  Mississippi  and  its  steamboats , 
and  then  added,  'You  are  a  great  and  noble  nation,  a 
wonderful  nation  ! '  The  duke  promised  to  write  to  the 
Emperor  of  Austria  for  me,  and  to  the  King  of  Sweden, 
and  other  crowned  heads,  and  to  invite  them  to  subscribe, 
and  requested  me  to  send  a  note  to-day  to  the  Minister 
of  the  Interior.  I  remained  talking  with  him  and  his 
nephew  more  than  an  hour.  I  asked  him  to  give  me  his 
own  signature  on  my  list  of  subscribers.  He  smiled, 
took  it,  and  wrote,  in  very  legible  letters,  *  Le  Due  d'Or- 
leans.'  I  now  thought  that  to  remain  any  longer  would 
be  an  intrusion,  and  thanking  him  respectfully,  I  bowed, 
shook  hands,  and  retired.  As  I  passed  down  the  serv- 
ants stared  at  me  with  astonishment,  wondering,  doubt- 
less, what  could  have  obtained  me  so  long  and  intimate 
an  interview  with  their  master. 

"  October  I.  Called  to-day  on  M.  Gerard,  of  whom 
France  may  boast  without  a  blush.  It  was  ten  o'clock 
when  I  reached  his  hotel ;  but  as  he  is  an  Italian, 
born  at  Rome,  and  retains  the  habits  of  his  country- 
men, keeps  late  hours,  and  seldom  takes  his  tea  be- 
fore one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  I  found  him  just  up,  and 
beginning  his  day's  work.  When  I  entered  his  rooms 
they  were  filled  with  persons  of  both  sexes,  and  as  soon 
as  my  name  was  announced,  Gerard,  a  small,  well  formed 
roan,  came  towards  me,  took  my  hand,  and  said,  'Wei- 


Visits  M.  Gerard. 


W9 


come,  brother  hi  arts  ! "  I  liked  this  much,  and  felt  grati 
*ied  to  have  broken  the  ice  so  easily,  and  my  perspira- 
tion subsided. 

"Gerard  was  all  curiosity  to  see  my  drawings,  and 
old  Redouti5,  who  was  also  present,  came  to  mo  and 
spoke  so  highly  ot  them  before  they  were  opened,  that  I 
feared  Gerard  would  be  disappointed.  However,  the 
book  was  opened  accidentally  at  the  plate  of  the  parrots, 
and  Gerard,  taking  it  up  without  speaking,  looked  at  it 
with  an  eye  as  critical  as  my  own  for  several  minutes,  put 
it  down,  and  took  up  the  mocking-birds,  and  then  offer- 
ing me  his  hand,  said,  *  Mr.  Audubon,  you  are  the  king 
of  ornitliological  painters.  We  are  all  children  in  France 
or  Europe.  Who  would  have  expected  such  things  from 
the  woods  of  America! '  I  received  compliments  on  all 
sides,  and  Gerard  talked  of  nothing  but  my  work,  and 
asked  me  to  give  him  some  prospectuses  to  send  to  Italy. 
He  also  repeated  what  Baron  Cuvier  had  said  in  the 
morning,  and  hoped  that  the  Minister  would  order  a  num- 
ber of  copies  for  the  government.  I  closed  the  book,  and 
sauntered  around  the  room,  admiring  the  superb  prints, 
mostly  taken  from  his  own  paintings.  The  ladies  were 
all  engaged  at  cards,  and  money  did  not  appear  to  be 
scarce  in  this  part  of  Paris.  Mrs.  Gerard  is  a  small,  fat- 
tish  woman,  to  whom  I  made  a  bow,  and  saw  but  for  a  mo- 
ment. The  ladies  were  dressed  very  finely,  ([uite  in  anew 
Hishion  to  me,  pointed  corsets  before,  with  some  hanging 
trimmings,  and  very  full  robes  of  rich  and  ditTerently-col- 
ored  satins  and  other  materials. 

^'■October  20.  Nothing  to  do,  and  fatigued  with  look- 
ing at  Paris.     Four  subscriptions  in  seven  week-v  is  very 

slow  work The  stock-pigeon,  or   cushat,  roosts 

in  the  trees  of  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries  in  considerable 
numbers.  They  arrive  about  sunset,  settle  at  first  on  the 
highest  trees  and  Iriest  naked  branches,  then  gradually 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


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lower  themselves  to  the  trunks  of  the  trees  and  the  t1  Ick- 
est  parts  of  the  foliage,  and  remain  there  all  night.  They 
leave  at  the  break  of  day,  and  Hy  off  in  a  northerly  di- 
rection. Blackbirds  also  do  the  same,  and  are  extreme 
ly  noisy  before  dark  ;  >ome  few  rooks  and  magpies  are 
seen  there  also.  In  the  Jardin  or  walks  of  the  Palais 
Royal  the  common  sparrows  are  prodigiously  plentiful  ; 
very  tame,  fed  by  ladies  and  children,  and  often  killed 
with  blowguns  by  mischievous  boys.  The  mountain 
finch  passes  in  scattered  numbers  over  Paris  at  this  stason, 
going  northerly.  And  now,  my  love,  wouldst  thou  not 
believe  me  once  more  in  the  woods,  and  hard  at  it  ? 
Alas  !  I  wish  I  were.  What  precious  time  I  am  losing  in 
this  Europe  I    When  shall  I  go  home  ? 

"  October  26.  I  have  not  written  for  several  days,  be- 
cause I  have  been  waiting,  and  had  no  inclination. 
Meanwhile  a  note  came  from  Baron  de  la  BouilleJe,  an- 
nouncing the  king's  subscription  for  six  copies ,  and  I 
have  appointed  an  agent  in  Paris,  and  am  now  leady  to 
leave.  I  have  bid  adieu  to  Baron  Cuvier  and  Geoffrey 
St.  Hilaire,  and  have  taken  a  seat  in  the  rotunda  for 
Calais  and  London  direct.  I  have  paid  twenty  francs  in 
advance,  and  long  for  to-morrow,  to  be  on  my  way  to 
Er gland.  I  shall  have  been  absent  two  months,  have  ex- 
pended forty  pounds,  and  obtained  thirteen  subscrib- 
ers." 


J'! 


II 


f)m^* 


CHAPTER   .III. 

Rihtrnto  London -^ Sets  Sail  for  America — Arrival — Friends  h 

New  Yoik. 

ONDON^  Nov.  9.  This  is  an  eventful  day  in 
the  history  of  my  great  work  on  the  Birds  of 
I  America.  Mr.  Havel!  has  taken  the  draw 
ings .which  are  to  form  the  eleventh  number,  and  it  will 
be  the  first  number  for  the  year  1829.  I  wished  several 
numbers  to  be  engraved  as  soon  as  possible,  for  rea- 
sons which,  if  known  to  thee,  Lucy,  would  fill  thy  heart 
with  joy. 

"  November  10.  I  am  painting  as  much  as  the  short 
days  will  allow ;  but  it  is  so  very  cold  to  my  south- 
ern constitution,  that  I  am  freezing  on  the  side  farthest 
from  the  fire.  I  have  finished  two  pictures  for  the 
Duke  of  Orleans — one  of  the  grouse,  with  which  I  re- 
gret to  part  without  a  copy,  though  I  have  taken  the 
outline. 

"  December  23.  After  so  long  an  absence  from  thee, 
my  dear  Book,  it  will  be  difficult  to  write  up  a  connected 
record  of  intervening  events,  but  I  will  try  and  recall 
what  is  worth  recording.  My  main  occupation  has  been 
painting  every  day.  I  have  finished  my  two  large  pic- 
tures of  the  Eagle  and  the  Lamb,  and  the  Dog  and  the 
Pheasants,  and  now,  as  usual,  can  scarce  bear  to  look  at 
them.  My  amiable  pupil.  Miss  Hudson,  has  kept  me 
company,  and  her  pencil  has  turned  some  of  my  draw- 


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182 


Life  of  Audubon, 


ings  into  pictures.  I  have  dined  out  but  once,  with  my 
friend  J.  G.  Children,  of  the  British  Museum,  on  the 
Coronation  Day ;  and  there  I  met  several  friends  and 
scientific  acquaintance.  The  want  of  exercise,  and  close 
application,  have  reduced  my  flesh  very  much,  and  1 
would  have  been  off  for  Manchester,  Liverpool,  &c.,  but 
have  had  no  complete  copy  of  my  work  to  take  with  me. 

^^ December  25.  Another  Christmas  in  England!  I 
dined  at  Mr.  Goddard's,  in  the  furthest  opposite  end  of 
London,  with  a  company  mostly  American.  Sir  Thomas 
Lawrence  called  to  see  my  paintings  while  I  was  absent. 
Mr.  Havell  showed  them  to  him,  and  made  the  following 
report  to  me  : — *  Looking  at  the  picture  of  the  Eagle  ,and 
the  Lamb,  he  said,  "  That  is  a  fine  picture."  He  ex- 
amined it  closely,  and  then  turned  to  the  Pheasants, 
which  I  call  "  Sauve  qui  pent ;"  this  he  looked  at  from 
different  points,  and  with  his  face  close  to  the  canvas, 
and  had  it  rolled  to  different  points,  for  more  light  and 
new  views,  but  expressed  no  opinion  about  it.  The  Otter 
came  next.  He  said,  "  The  animal  is  very  fine."  He 
left,  and  promised  to  return  in  a  few  days.'  I  .net  him 
soon  after,  and  he  told  me  he  would  call  and  make  selec- 
tion of  a  picture  to  be  exhibited  at  Somerset  House,  and 
would  speak  to  the  council  about  it." 

By  this  time,  as  the  journal  shows,  Audubon  had  re- 
solved to  visit  America,  and  had  begun  to  make  active 
preparations  for  leaving. 

"  March  31.  It  is  so  long  since  I  have  written  in  my 
life  book,  that  I  felt  quite  ashamed  on  opening  it  to  see 
that  the  last  date  was  Christmas  of  last  year.  Fie,  Au- 
dubon !  Well,  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  go  to  Ameri- 
ca, and  with  some  labor  and  some  trouble  perfected  all 
arrangements.  I  have  given  the  agency  of  my  work  to 
my  excellent  friend  Children,  of  the  British  Museum, 
who  kindly  offered  to  see  to  it  during  my  absence.     I 


.iijiil 


i 


ne  Return  Home. 


183 


have  settled  all  my  business  as  well  as  I  could,  taken  mj 
passage  on  board  the  packet-ship  Columbia,  Captain 
Joseph  Delano,  to  sail  from  Portsmouth,  and  paid  thirtj 
pounds  for  my  passage. 

"  April  I.  I  went  by  mail  to  the  smoky  city  of  Ports- 
mouth ;  have  hoisted  the  anchor,  am  at  sea,  and  sea-sick. 

"  The  cry  of*  land,  land,  land  1 '  ti^rice  repeated,  roused 
me  from  my  torpor,  and  acted  like  champagne  to  refresh 
my  spirits.  I  rushed  on  deck,  and  saw  in  the  distance  a 
deep  gray  line,  like  a  wall  along  the  horizon,  and  toward 
which  the  ship  was  rolling  and  cutting  her  way.  My 
heart  swelled  with  joy,  and  all  seemed  like  a  pleasant 
dream  at  first ;  but  as  soon  as  the  reality  was  fairly  im- 
pressed on  my  mind,  tears  of  joy  rolled  down  my  cheeks. 
I  clasped  my  hands,  and  fell  on  my  knees,  and  raising 
my  eyes  to  heaven — that  happy  land  above — I  offered  my 
thanks  to  our  God,  that  He  had  preserved  and  prospered 
me  in  my  long  absence,  and  once  more  permitted  me  to 
approach  these  shores  so  dear  to  me,  and  which  hold  my 
heart's  best  earthly  treasures. 

"  May  5.  New  York.  I  have  brought  thee,  my  En- 
glish book,  all  the  way  across  the  Atlantic,  too  sea-sick 
to  hold  any  converse  with  thee — sea-sick  all  the  way, 
until  the  morning  when  I  saw  my  dear  native  land.  But 
no  matter,  I  have  safely  landed.  We  left  England  with 
one  hundred  and  fifty  souls,  and  put  them  all  ashore  at 
New  York,  except  one  poor  black  fellow,  who  thought 
proper  to  put  an  end  to  his  existence  by  jumping  over- 
board one  dark  night.  A  Mr.  Benjamin  Smith  subscribed 
to  my  work  on  the  passage.  He  had  his  family,  eight 
servants,  five  dogs,  and  cloth  and  twine  enough  to  fly 
kites  the  world  over — an  excellent  and  benevolent  man. 

"  My  state-room  companion  was  a  colonel  from  Rus- 
sia, named  Sir  Isaac  Coffin,  and  he  did  all  he  could  to 
make  the  voyage  as  pleasant  as  possible  under  the  cir 


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184 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


cumstances.  I  was  well  received  in  New  York  by  all  my 
acquaintances,  and  Dr.  Paxallis  took  me  to  the  Collectox 
of  the  Customs,  who,  on  reading  President  Jackson's  let 
ters  to  me,  gave  free  admission  to  my  books  and  luggage. 
My  work  was  exhibited  here,  and  a  report  made  on  it  to 
the  New  York  Lyceum  ;  and  I  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Mr.  William  Cooper,  the  friend  of  Charles  Bonaparte,  a 
fine,  kind  person. 

"  May  14.  I  left  New  York  for  Philadelphia,  in  com- 
pany with  Mr.  Thomas  Wharton,  an  excellent,  but  not 
remarkably  intellectual  man,  and  took  board  with  Mrs. 
Bradley,  in  Arch  Street.  There  I  spent  three  days,  and 
then  removed  to  Camden,  New  Jersey,  where  I  spent 
three  weeks  in  observing  the  habits  of  the  migratory 
warblers  and  other  birds  which  arrive  in  vast  numbers  in 
the  spring.  From  there  I  returned  to  Philadelphia  to 
visit  the  sea-shores  of  New  Jersey." 

Here  follows  his  elaborate  account  of  that  visit. 


m 


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"  Great  Egg  Harbor. 

"Having  made  all  the  necessary  preparations  to 
visit  the  sea-shores  of  New  Jersey,  for  the  purpose  of 
making  myself  acquainted  with  their  feathered  inhabi- 
tants, I  left  early  in  June.  The  weather  was  pleasant, 
and  tlie  country  seemed  to  smile  in  the  prospect  of  Dright 
days  and  gentle  gales.  Fishermen-gunners  passed  daily 
between  Philadelphia  and  the  various  small  seaports, 
with  Jersey  waggons  laden  with  fish,  fowls,  and  other  pro- 
vision, or  with  such  articles  as  were  required  by  the  fami- 
lies of  those  hardy  boatmen ;  and  I  bargained  with  one 
of  them  to  take  myself  and  my  baggage  to  Great  Egg 
Harbor.  One  afternoon,  about  sunset,  the  vehicle  halt- 
ed at  my  lodgings,  and  the  conductor  intimated  that  he 
was  anyious  to  proceed  as  quickly  as  possible.  A  trunk, 
a  couple  of  guns,  and  such  other  articles  as  are  found 


The  Sea  Shores  of  Jersey, 


l8j 


necessary  b)  persons  whose  pursuits  are  similar  to  mine, 
were  immediately  thrust  into  the  waggon,  and  were  fol- 
lowed by  their  owner.  The  conductor  whistled  to  hia 
steeds,  and  off  we  went  at  a  round  pace  over  the  loose 
and  deep  sand  that  in  almost  every  part  of  this  State 
forms  the  basis  of  the  roads.  After  a  while  we  overtook 
a  whole  caravan  of  similar  vehicles  moving  in  the  same 
direction ;  and  when  we  got  near  them  our  horses  slack- 
ened their  pace  to  a  regular  walk,  the  driver  leaped  from 
his  seat,  I  followed  his  example,  and  we  presently  found 
ourselves  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of  merry  waggoners,  re- 
lating their  adventures  of  the  week,  it  being  now  Saturday 
night.  One  gave  intimation  of  the  number  of  *  sheep's- 
heads  *  he  had  taken  to  town  ;  another  spoke  of  the  cur- 
lews which  yet  remained  on  the  sands  ;  and  a  third  boast- 
ed of  having  gathered  so  many  dozens  of  marsh  hens' 
eggs.  I  inquired  if  the  fish-hawks  were  plentiful  near 
Great  Egg  Harbor,  and  was  answered  by  an  elderly 
man,  who,  with  a  laugh,  asked  if  I  had  ever  seen  the 
'  weak  fish  '  along  the  coast  without  the  bird  in  question. 
Not  knowing  the  animal  he  had  named,  I  confessed  my 
ignorance,  when  the  whole  party  burst  into  a  loud  laugh, 
in  which,  there  being  nothing  better  for  it,  I  joined. 

"About  midnight  the  caravan  reached  a  half-way 
house,  where  we  rested  a  /hile.  Several  roads  diverged 
from  this  spot,  and  the  waggons  separated,  one  only 
keeping  us  company.  The  night  was  dark  and  gloomy, 
but  the  sand  of  the  road  indicated  our  course  very  dis- 
tinctly. Suddenly  the  galloping  of  horses  struck  my  ear, 
and  on  looking  back,  we  perceived  that  our  waggon  must 
in  an  instant  be  in  imminent  danger.  The  driver  leaped 
off,  and  drew  hip  steeds  aside,  barely  in  time  to  allow  the 
runaways  to  pass  without  injuring  us.  Off  they  went  at 
full  speed,  and  not  long  after  their  owner  came  up  pant* 
ing,  and  informed  us  that  they  had  suddenly  taken  fright 


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Z.j^<?  of  Audubon. 


at  some  noise  proceeding  from  the  woods,  but  hoped  thej 
would  soon  stop.  Immediately  after  we  heard  a  crash , 
then  for  a  few  moments  all  was  silent ;  but  the  neighing 
of  the  horses  presently  assured  us  that  they  had  broken 
loose.  On  reaching  the  spot  we  found  the  waggon  up- 
set, and  a  few  yards  further  on  were  the  horses  quietly 
browsing  by  the  road-side. 

"  The  first  dawn  of  morn  in  the  Jerseys,  in  the  month 
of  June,  is  worthy  of  a  better  description  than  I  can  fur- 
nish j  and  therefore  I  shall  only  say  that  the  nioment  the 
sunbeams  blazed  over  the  horizon,  the  loud  and  mellow 
notes  of  the  meadow  lark  saluted  our  ears.  On  each  side 
of  the  road  were  open  woods,  on  the  tallest  trees  of 
which  I  observed  at  intervals  the  nest  of  a  fish-hawk,  far 
above  which  the  white-breasted  bird  slowly  winged  its 
way  as  it  commenced  its  early  journey  to  the  sea,  the 
odor  of  which  filled  me  with  delight.  In  half  an  hour 
more  we  were  in  the  centre  of  Great  Egg  Harbor. 

"  There  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  received  into 
the  house  of  a  thoroughbred  fisherman-gunner,  who,  be- 
sides owning  a  comfortable  cot,  only  a  few  hundred  yards 
firom  the  shore,  had  an  excellent  woman  for  a  wife,  and  a 
little  daughter  as  playful  as  a  kitten,  though  as  wild  as  a 
sea-gull.  In  less  than  half  an  hour  I  was  quite  at  home, 
and  the  rest  of  the  day  was  spent  in  devotion.  Oysters, 
though  reckoned  out  of  season  at  this  period,  are  as  good 
as  ever  when  fresh  from  their  beds,  and  my  first  meal  was 
of  some  as  large  and  white  as  any  I  ^ave  eaten.  The 
sight  of  them,  placed  before  me  on  a  clean  table,  with  an 
honest  industrious  family  in  my  company,  never  failed  to 
afford  more  pleasure  than  the  most  sumptuous  fare  under 
different  circumstances,  and  our  conversation  being  sim- 
ple and  harmless,  gayety  shone  in  every  face.  As  we  be- 
came better  acquainted,  I  had  to  answer  several  ques- 
tions relative  to  the  object  of  my  visit.      The  good  man 


The  Sea  Shores  of  Jersey. 


187 


rubbed  his  hands  with  joy  as  I  spoke  ofshooting  and  fish- 
ing, and  of  long  excursions  through  the  swamps  and 
marshes  around.  My  host  was  then,  and  I  hope  still  is, 
a  tall,  strong-boned,  muscular  man,  of  dark  complexion, 
with  eyes  as  keen  as  those  of  the  sea  eagle.  He  was  a 
tough  walker,  laughed  at  difficulties,  and  could  pull  an 
oar  Vvitli  any  man.  As  to  shooting,  I  have  often  doubted 
whetlier  he  or  Mr.  Egan,  the  worthy  pilot  of  Indian  Isle, 
was  best ;  and  rarely  indeed  have  I  seen  either  of  them 
miss  a  shot. 

"  At  daybreak  on  Monday  I  shouldered  my  double- 
barrelled  gun,  and  my  host  carried  with  him  a  long  fowl- 
ing piece,  a  pair  of  oars,  and  a  pair  of  oyster-tongs,  while 
the  wife  and  daughter  brought  along  a  seine.  The  boat 
was  good,  the  breeze  gentle,  and  along  the  inlets  we  sailed 
for  parts  well  known  to  my  companions.  To  such  natu- 
ralists as  are  qualified  to  observe  many  different  objects 
at  the  same  time.  Great  Egg  Harbor  would  probably  af- 
ford as  ample  a  field  as  any  part  of  our  coast,  excepting 
the  Florida  Keys.  Birds  of  many  kinds  are  abundant,  as 
are  fishes  and  testaceous  animals.  The  forests  shelter 
many  beautiful  plants,  and  even  on  the  driest  sand-bar 
you  may  see  insects  of  the  most  brilliant  tints.  Our  prin- 
cipal object,  however,  was  to  procure  certain  birds  known 
there  by  the  name  of  lawyers  ;  and  to  accomplish  this  we 
entered  and  followed  for  several  miles  a  winding  inlet  or 
bayou,  v/hich  led  us  to  the  interior  of  a  vast  marsh, 
where,  after  some  search,  we  found  the  birds  and  their 
nests.  Our  seine  had  been  placed  across  the  channel, 
and  when  we  returned  to  it  the  tide  had  run  out  and  left 
in  it  a  number  of  fine  fishes,  some  of  which  we  cooked  and 
ate  on  the  spot.  One,  which  I  considered  as  a  curiosity, 
was  saved  and  transmitted  to  Baron  Cuvier.  Our  repast 
ended,  the  seine  was  spread  out  to  dry,  and  we  again  be- 
took ourselves  to  the  marshes,  to  pursue   our  researches 


\. 


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T 


i88 


Life  of  Auduhon. 


until  the  return  of  the  tide.  Having  collected  enough  to 
satisfy  us,  we  took  up  our  oars  and  returned  to  the  shore 
in  front  of  the  fisherman's  house,  where  we  dragged  the 
seine  several  times  with  success. 

**  In  this  manner  I  passed  several  weeks  along  those 
delightful  and  healthy  shores — one  day  going  to  the 
woods  to  search  the  swamps  in  which  the  herons  bred, 
passing  another  amid  the  joyous  cries  of  the  marsh  hens, 
and  on  a  third  carrying  slaughter  among  the  white  breast- 
ed sea-gulls  j  by  way  of  amusement  sometimes  hauling 
the  fish  called  the  *  sheep's-head '  from  an  eddy  along  the 
shore  ;  watching  the  gay  terns  as  they  danced  in  the 
air,  or  plunged  into  the  water  to  seize  the  tiny  fry.  Many 
a  drawing  I  made  at  Egg  Harbor,  and  many  a  pleasant 
day  I  spent  along  its  shores ;  and  much  pleasure  would 
it  give  me  once  more  to  visit  the  good  and  happy  family 
(Captain  Horam's)  in  whose  house  I  resided  there. 

"  September  i.  Having  accomplished  my  purpose  in 
visiting  the  sea-shore  of  New  Jersey,  I  returned  to  Phila- 
delphia, and  made  preparations  to  go  to  the  Great  Pine 
Swamp,  in  Northumberland  County,  Pennsylvania, 

"The  Great  Pine  Swamp. 

"  I  left  Philadelphia  at  four  of  the  morning  by  the 
coach,  with  no  other  accoutrements  than  I  knew  to  be  ab- 
solutely necessary  for  the  jaunt  which  I  intended  to 
make.  These  consisted  of  a  wooden  box,  containing  a 
small  stock  of  linen,  drawing-paper,  my  journal,  colors 
and  pencils,  together  with  twenty-five  pounds  of  shot, 
some  flints,  a  due  quantum  of  cash,  my  gun,  *  Tear  Jack- 
et,' and  a  heart  as  true  to  nature  as  ever. 

"  Our  coaches  are  none  of  the  best,  nor  do  they 
move  with  the  velocity  of  those  of  some  other  countries. 
It  was  eight,  and  a  dark  night,  when  I  reached  Mauch 
Chunk,  now  so  celebrated  in  the  Union  for  its  rich  coal 


^he  Great  Pine  Swamp, 


189 


mines,  and  eighty-eight  miles  distant  from  Philadelphia, 
I  had  passed  through  a  diversified  country,  part  of  which 
was  highly  cultivated,  while  the  rest  was  yet  in  a  state  of 
nature,  and  consequently  much  more  agreeable  to  me. 
On  alighting  I  was  shown  to  the  travellers'  room,  and  on 
asking  for  the  landlord,  saw  coming  towards  me  a  fine- 
looking  young  man,  to  whom  \  made  known  my  wishes. 
He  spoke  kindly,  and  offered  to  lodge  and  board  me  at  a 
much  lower  rate  than  travellers  who  go  there  for  the  very 
simple  pleasure  of  being  dragged  on  the  railway.  In  a 
word,  I  was  fixed  in  four  minutes,  and  that  most  comfort- 
ably. 

"  No  sooner  had  the  approach  of  day  been  announced 
by  the  cocks  of  the  little  village,  than  I  marched  out 
witii  my  gun  and  note-book,  to  judge  for  myself  of  the 
wealth  of  the  country.  After  traversing  much  ground, 
and  crossing  many  steep  hills,  I  returned,  if  not  wearied, 
at  least  much  disappointed  at  the  extraordinary  scarcity  of 
birds.  So  I  bargained  to  be  carried  in  a  cart  to  the  cen- 
tral parts  of  the  Great  Pine  Swamp  ;  and  although  a  heavy 
storm  was  rising,  ordered  my  conductor  to  proceed.  The 
weather  had  become  tremendous,  and  we  were  thorough- 
ly drenched.  We  wound  round  many  a  mountain,  and  at 
last  crossed  the  highest.  But  my  resolution  being  fixed, 
the  boy  was  obliged  to  continue  his  driving.  Having  al- 
ready travelled  fifteen  miles  or  so,  we  left  the  turnpike 
and  struck  up  a  narrow  and  bad  road,  that  seemed  mere- 
ly cut  out  to  enable  the  people  of  the  swamp  to  receive  the 
necessary  supplies  from  the  village  which  I  had  left. 
Some  mistakes  were  made,  and  it  was  almost  dark  when 
a  post  directed  us  to  the  habitation  of  a  Mr.  ledediah 
Irish,  to  whom  I  had  been  recommended.  We  now 
rattled  down  a  steep  declivity,  edged  on  one  side  by  al- 
most perpendicular  rocks,  and  on  the  other  by  a  noisy 
stream,    which   seemed  grumbling  at  the    approach  of 


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190 


Life  of  Juduhon, 


strangers.  The  ground  was  so  overgrown  by  laurels  and 
tall  pines  of  different  kinds,  that  the  whole  presented  only 
a  mass  of  darkness. 

"At  length  we  got  to  the  house,  the  door  of  which 
was  already  opened,  the  sight  of  strangers  being  nothing 
uncommon  in  our  woods,  even  in  the  most  remote 
parts.  On  entering  I  was  presented  with  a  chair,  while 
my  conductor  was  shown  the  way  to  the  stable  ;  and  on 
expressing  a  wish  that  I  should  be  permitted  to  remain  in 
the  house  for  some  weeks,  I  was  gratified  by  receiving 
the  sanction  of  the  good  woman  to  my  proposal,  although 
her  husband  was  then  from  home.  As  I  immediately 
fell  talking  about  the  nature  of  the  country,  and  if  birds 
were  numerous  in  the  neighborhood,  Mrs.  Irish,  more  au 
fait  to  household  affairs  than  ornithology,  sent  for  a  ne- 
phew of  her  husband,  who  soon  made  his  appearance,  and 
in  whose  favor  I  became  at  once  prepossessed.  He  con- 
versed like  an  educated  person,  saw  that  I  was  comforta- 
bly disposed  of,  and  finally  bid  me  good-night,  in  such  a 
tone  as  made  me  quite  happy. 

"  The  storm  had  rolled  away  before  the  first  beams  of 
the  morning  sun  shone  brightly  on  the  wet  foliage,  dis- 
playing all  its  richness  and  beauty.  My  ears  were  greet- 
ed by  the  notes,  always  sweet  and  mellow,  of  the  wood- 
thrush,  and  other  songsters.  Before  I  had  gone  many 
steps  the  woods  echoed  to  the  report  of  my  gun,  and  I 
picked  from  among  the  leaves  a  lovely  bird  long  sought 
for,  but  till  then  sought  for  in  vain.  I  needed  no  more, 
and  standing  still  for  a  while,  I  was  soon  convinced  that 
the  Great  Pine  Swamp  harbored  many  other  objects  inter- 
esting to  me.  The  young  man  joined  me,  bearing  his 
rifle,  and  offered  to  accompany  me  through  the  woods,  all 
of  which  he  well  knew.  But  I  was  anxious  to  transfer  to 
paper  the  form  and  beauty  of  the  little  bird  I  had  in  my 
hand  ;  and  requesting  him  to  break   a  twig  of  blooming 


,1 


Jedediah  Irish 


191 


iauiel,  we  returned  to  the  house,  speaking  of  nothing  else 
than  the  picturesque  beauty  of  the  country  around. 

'*  A  few  days  passed,  during  which  I  became  acquaint- 
ed with  my  hostess  and  her  sweet  children,  and  made  oc- 
casional rambles,  but  spent  the  greater  portion  of  my  time 
in  drawing.  One  morning,  as  I  stood  near  the  window  of 
ray  room,  I  remarked  a  tall  and  powerful  man  alight  from 
his  horse,  loose  the  girth  of  his  saddle,  raise  the  lattei 
with  one  hand,  pass  the  bridle  over  the  head  of  the  ani- 
mal with  the  other,  and  move  towards  the  house,  while 
the  horse  betook  himself  to  the  little  brook  to  drink.  I 
heard  some  movement  in  the  room  below,  and  again  the 
same  tall  person  walked  towards  the  mills  and  stores,  a 
few  hundred  yards  from  the  house.  In  .  merica,  busi- 
ness is  the  first  object^in  view  at  all  times,  and  rightly  it 
should  be  so.  Soon  after,  my  hostess  entered  my  room 
accompanied  by  the  fine-looking  woodsman,  to  whom,  as 
Mr.  Jedediah  Irish,  I  was  introduced.  Reader,  to  de- 
scribe to  you  the  qualities  of  that  excellent  man,  were  vain  ; 
you  should  know  him  as  I  do,  to  estimate  the  value  of 
such  men  in  our  sequestered  forests.  He  not  only 
made  me  welcome,  but  promised  all  his  assistance  in  for- 
warding my  views  The  long  walks  and  long  talks  we 
have  had  together  I  never  can  forget,  nor  the  many  beau- 
tiful birds  which  we  pursued,  shot,  and  admired.  The 
juicy  venison,  excellent  bear's  flesh,  and  delightful  trout 
that  daily  formed  my  food,  methinks  I  can  still  enjoy. 
And  then  what  pleasure  I  had  in  listening  to  him,  as  he 
read  his  favorite  poems  of  Burns,  while  my  pencil  was  oc- 
cupied in  smoothing  and  softening  the  drawing  of  the 
bird  before  me.  Was  not  this  enough  to  recall  to  my 
mind  the  early  impressions  that  had  been  made  upon  it 
by  the  description  of  the  golden  age,  which  I  here  found 
realized  ?  The  Lehigh  about  this  place  forms  numerous 
short  turns  between  the  mountains,  and  affords  frequent 


TT  I    ' 


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192 


Life  of  Audubon. 


frills,  as  well  as,  below  the  falls,  deep  pools,  which  ren 
der  this  stream  a  most  valuable  one  for  mills  of  any  kind. 
Not  many  years  before  this  date  my  host  was  chosen  by 
the  agent  of  the  Lehigh  Coal  Company  as  their  mill- 
wright, and  manager  for  cutting  down  the  fine  trees  which 
covered  the  mountains  around.  He  was  young,  robust, 
active,  industrious,  and  persevering.  He  marched  to  the 
spot  where  his  abode  now  is,  with  some  workmen,  and 
by  dint  of  hard  labor  first  cleared  the  road  mentioned 
above,  and  reached  the  river  at  the  centre  of  a  bend, 
where  he  fixed  on  erecting  various  mills.  The  pass  here 
is  so  narrow  that  it  looks  as  if  formed  by  the  bursting 
asunder  of  the  mountain,  both  sides  ascending  abruptly, 
so  that  the  place  where  the  settlement  was  made  is  in 
many  parts  difficult  of  access,  and  yie  road  then  newly 
cut  was  only  sufficient  to  permit  men  and  horses  to  come 
to  the  spot  where  Jedediah  and  his  men  were  at  work.  So 
great  in  fact  where  the  difficulties  of  access,  that,  as  he 
told  me,  pointing  to  a  spot  about  150  feet  above  us,  they 
for  many  months  slipped  from  it  their  barrelled  provis- 
ions, assisted  by  ropes,  to  their  camp  below.  But  no 
sooner  was  the  first  saw-mill  erected,  than  the  axemen  be- 
gan their  devastation.  Trees  one  after  another  were,  and 
are  yet  constantly  heard  falling  during  the  days,  and  in 
calm  nights  the  greedy  mills  told  the  sad  tale  that  in  a 
century  the  noble  forests  around  would  exist  no  more. 
Many  mills  were  erected,  many  dams  raised,  in  defiance 
of  the  impetuous  Lehigh.  One  full  third  of  the  trees  have 
already  been  culled,  turned  into  boards,  and  floated  as 
far  as  Philadelphia.  In  such  an  undertaking  the  cutting 
of  the  trees  is  not  all.  They  have  afterwards  to  be  hauled 
to  the  edge  of  the  mountains  bordering  the  river,  launched 
into  the  stream,  and  led  to  the  mills,  over  many  shallows 
and  difficult  places.  Whilst  I  was  in  the  Great  Pine 
Swamp,  I  frequently  visited  one  of  the  principal  places  foi 


Logging. 


195 


the  laun  hing  of  logs.  To  see  them  tumbling  from  such 
a  height,  touching  here  and  there  the  rough  angle  of  a 
projecting  rock,  bounding  from  it  with  the  elasticity  of  a 
foot-ball,  and  at  last  falling  with  an  awful  crash  into  the 
river,  forms  a  sight  interesting  in  the  highest  degree,  but 
impossible  for  me  to  describe.  Shall  I  tell  you  that  I 
have  seen  masses  of  these  logs  heaped  above  each  other 
to  the  number  of  five  thousand  ?  I  may  so  tell  you,  for 
such  I  have  seen.  My  friend  Irish  assured  me  that  at 
some  seasons  these  piles  consisted  of  a  much  greater  num- 
ber, the  river  becoming  in  these  places  completely 
choked  up.  When  freshets  or  floods  take  place,  then  is 
the  time  chosen  for  forwarding  to  the  different  mills.  This 
is  called  a  '  frolic'  Jedediah  Irish,  who  is  generally  the 
leader,  proceeds  to  the  upper  leap  with  the  men, 
each  provided  with  a  strong  wooden  handspike  and 
a  short-handled  axe.  They  all  take  to  the  water, 
be  it  summer  or  winter,  like  so  many  Newfoundland 
spaniels.  The  logs  are  gradually  detached,  and  aftei 
a  time  are  seen  floating  down  the  dancing  stream, 
here  striking  against  a  rock,  and  whirling  many 
times  round,  there  suddenly  checked  in  dozens  by  a  shal- 
low, over  which  they  have  to  be  forced  with  the  hand- 
spikes. Now  they  arrive  at  the  edge  of  a  dam,  and  when 
the  party  has  arrived  at  the  last,  which  lies  just  where  my 
friend  Irish's  camp  was  first  formed,  the  drenched  leadei 
and  his  men,  about  sixty  in  number,  make  their  way  home, 
find  there  a  healthful  repast,  and"  spend  the  evening  and 
a  portion  of  the  night  in  dancing  and  frolicing  in  their 
own  simple  manner,  in  the  most  perfect  amit)'^,  seldom 
troubling  themselves  with  the  idea  of  the  labor  prepared 
for  them  oh  the  morrow.  That  morrow  now  come,  one 
sounds  a  horn  from  the  door  of  the  storehouse,  at  the  call 
of  which  they  all  return  to  their  work.  The  sawyers,  the 
millers,  the  rafters,  and  raft&men  are  all  immediately 
9 


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194 


Life  of  Aiduhon. 


busy.  The  mills  al!  are  going,  and  the  logs,  which  a  fevp 
months  before  were  the  supporters  of  broad  and  leafy 
tops,  are  now  in  the  act  of  being  split  asunder.  The 
boards  are  then  launched  into  the  stream,  and  rafts  are 
formed  of  them  for  market. 

"  During  the  summer  and  autumnal  months,  the  Le- 
high, a  small  river  of  itself,  soon  becomes  extremely 
shallow,  and  to  float  the  rafts  would  prove  impossible, 
had  not  art  managed  to  provide  a  supply  of  water  for 
this  express  purpose.  At  the  breast  of  the  lower  dam  is 
a  curiously-constructed  lock,  which  is  opened  at  the  ap- 
proach of  the  rafts.  They  pass  through  this  lock  with 
the  rapidity  of  lightning,  propelled  by  the  water  that  had 
been  accumulated  in  the  dam,  and  which  is  of  itself  gene- 
rally sufficient  to  float  them  to  Mauch  Chunk ;  after 
which,  entering  regular  canals,  they  find  no  other  impedi- 
ments, but  are  conveyed  to  their  ultimate  destination. 
Before  population  had  greatly  advanced  in  this  part  of 
Pennsylvania,  game  of  all  descriptions  found  in  that 
range  was  extremely  abundant.  The  elk  did  not  disdain 
to  browse  on  the  shoulders  of  the  mountains  near  the  Le- 
high. Bears  and  the  common  deer  must  have  been 
plentiful,  as  at  the  moment  when  I  write,  many  of  both 
kinds  are  seen  and  killed  by  the  resident  hunters.  The 
wild  turkey,  the  pheasant,  and  the  grouse,  are  tolerably 
abundant ;  and  as  to  trout  in  the  streams — ah !  reader,  it 
you  are  an  angler,  do  go  there  and  try  for  yourself.  For 
my  part,  I  can  only  say  that  I  have  been  made  weary 
with  pulling  up  from  the  rivulets  the  sparkling  fish,  al- 
lured by  the  struggles  of  the  common  grasshopper. 

"  A  comical  affair  happened  with  some  bears,  which  1 
shall  relate  to  you,  good  reader.  A  party  of  my  friend 
Irish's  raftsmen,  returning  from  Mauch  Chunk  one  after- 
noon, through  sundry  short  cuts  over  the  mountains,  at 
the  season  when  huckleberries  are   ripe   and  plentiful, 


^^^ 

M 

A  Bear  Fight. 


'95 


were  suddenly  appriseu  of  the  proximity  of  some  of  these 
animals,  by  their  snuffing  the  air.  No  sooner  was  this 
perceived  than,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  party,  not 
fewer  than  eight  bears,  I  was  told,  made  their  appear 
ance.  Each  man  being  provided  with  his  short-handled 
axe,  faced  about  and  willingly  came  to  the  scratch  ;  but 
the  assailed  soon  proved  the  assailants,  and  with  claw 
and  tooth  drove  off  the  men  in  a  twinkling.  Down  they 
all  rushed  from  the  mountain ;  the  noise  spread  quickly  \ 
rifles  were  soon  procured  and  shouldered ;  but  when  the 
spot  was  reached,  no  bears  were  to  be  found ;  night 
forced  the  hunters  back  to  their  homes,  and  a  laugh  con- 
cluded the  affair. 

"  I  spent  six  weeks  in  the  Great  Pine  Forest — swamp 
it  cannot  be   called — where   I   made  many  a  drawing. 
Wishing  to  leave  Pennsylvania,  and  to  follow  the  migra- 
tory flocks  of  our  birds  to  the  south,  I  bade  adieu  to  the 
excellent  wife  and  rosy  children  of  my  friend,  and  to  his 
kind   nephew.     Jedediah   Irish,   shouldered    his    heavy 
rifle,  accompanied  me,  and  trudging  directly  across  the 
mountains,  we  arrived  at  Mauch  Chunk  in  good  time  for 
dinner.     At  Mauch    Chunk,  where  we  both  spent  the 
night,  Mr.  White,  the  civil  engineer,  visited  me,  and  look- 
ed at  my  drawings  which  I  had  made  at  the  Great  Pine 
Forest.     The  news  he  gave  me  of  my  sons,  then  in  Ken- 
tucky, made  me  still  more  anxious  to  move  in  their  direc- 
tion ;  and  long  before  daybreak  I  shook  hands  with  the 
good  man  of  the  forest,  and  found  myself  moving  towards 
the  capital  of  Pennsylvania,  having  as  my  sole  companion 
a  sharp  frosty  breeze.     Left  to  my  thoughts,  I  felt  amazed 
that  such  a  place  as  the  Great  Pine  Forest  should  be  so 
little  known  to  the  Philadelphians,  scarcely  any  of  whom 
could  direct  me  towards  it. 

"  Night  came  on  as  I  was  thinking  of  such  things, 
and  I  was  turned  out  of  the  coach,  in  the  streets  of  the 


,ii 


ii 


;'  'I 


1 


196 


Ltje  of  Audubon. 


fair  city,  just  as  the  clock  struck  ten.  I  cannot  say  my 
bones  were  much  rested,  but  not  a  moment  was  to  be 
lost  So  I  desired  a  porter  to  take  up  my  little  luggage, 
and  leading  him  towards  the  nearest  wharf,  I  found  my 
self  soon  after  gliding  across  the  Delaware  towards  mj 
former  lodgings  in  the  Jerseys." 


Ill 


CHAPliiR  XIV, 

The  Mteting  with  his  Wife  and  Sons  — Return  with  his  Wife  tt 
England —  Provincial  Canvass —  East  Florida. 


FTER  remaining  a  few  days  at  his  lodgings,  Au- 
dubon started  off  to  his  wife  and  children,  who 
were  then  residing  in  the  south  and  west ;  Vic- 
tor at  Louisville,  Kentucky,  and  Mrs  Auduboa  and  John 
at  Mr.  Garret  Johnson's,  in  Mississippi,  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  above  New  Orleans. 

"  I  crossed  the  mountains  to  Pittsburg,  in  the  mail- 
coach,  with  my  dog  and  gun,  and  calling  on  my  wife's  re- 
lations, and  one  of  my  old  partners,  Mr.  Thomas  Pears, 
I  proceeded  down  the  Ohio  in  a  steamboat  to  Louisville. 
On  entering  the  counting-house  of  my  relative,  Mr.  W. 
G.  Bakewell,  I  saw  my  son  Victor  at  a  desk,  but  per- 
haps would  not  have  recognized  him  had  he  not  known 
me  at  once.  And  the  pleasure  I  experienced  on  pressing 
him  to  my  breast  was  increased  when  I  discovered  how 
much  my  dear  boy  had  improved,  as  I  had  not  seen  him 
for  five  years.  My  son  John  Woodhouse  I  also  found  at 
Mr.  Berthond's,  and  he  had  also  grown  and  improved. 
After  spending  a  few  days  at  Louisville,  I  took  passage 
on  another  steamer  going  down  the  Mississippi,  and  in  a 
few  days  landed  at  Bayou  Sara,  and  was  soon  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Johnson,  and  came  suddenly  on  my  dear 
wife  :  we  were  both  overcome  with  emotion,  which  found 
relief  in  tears." 

The  following  interesting  allusions  to  Audubon's  visit, 
are  from  the  pen  of  T.  B.  Tnoipc,  for  many  years  a  res- 
ident of  the  South  -  West.     "  When  we  first  arrived  in 


ii 


iv 


ii  I 


-1. 


■   1  ■. 


53! 


I 


"U.l: 


198 


Life  of  Audubon, 


I  f 


i!t'« 


Louisiana,"  he  writes,  "  we  were  pleasantly  surprised  to 
find  that  our  temporary  home  was  within  range  of  much 
of  Audubon's  most  faithfully  searched  country.  Almost 
every  old  resident  we  rnet  could  tell  us  something  about 
the  man ;  and  although  we  heard  much  to  satisfy  us  that 
his  pursuits  were  altogether  unappreciated,  yet  we  nevei 
heard  anything  that  did  not  reflect  honor  on  his  charac 
ter  as  an  enthusiastic  disciple  of  nature,  and  a  superior 
man,  and  not  of  one  characteristic  that  displayed  vanity. 
On  the  contrary,  he  was  almost  child-like  in  his  habits, 
he  was  so  inoffensive  and  unobtrusive  where  his  pursuits 
were  not  concerned.  At  all  events  the  details  of  his 
daily  experiences  in  the  swamps  of  the  Mississippi,  his 
patient  sufferings  from  heat,  storm  and  hunger,  while  sat- 
isfying himself  of  some  habit  of  a  single  bird,  tell  of  a 
character  over  which  inordinate  vanity  could  have  exer- 
ted no  perceptible  influence. 

"  Audubon  was  of  French  extraction  ;  he  therefore  in- 
herited the  mercurial  peculiarities  of  his  race  \  and  when 
a  youth,  possessed  of  liberal  resources,  he  was  fond  of 
display,  but  the  grave  pursuits  of  business  and  the  fierce 
impulse  he  received  from  nature  to  be  an  ornithologist, 
and  the  many  pecuniary  misfortunes  that  befel  him  on 
the  threshold  of  his  life,  sobered  his  judgment  and  pre- 
pared the  way  for  that  entire  absorption  of  all  his  great 
powers  that  resulted  finally  in  the  production  of  his  im- 
mortal works. 

"  In  one  of  the  first  plantation  houses  I  visited  on  my 
arrival  in  Louisiana,  I  was  attracted  by  the  covering  of 
a  rude  fireboard,  which  upon  being  attentively  examined, 
I  discovered  was  covered  over  with  very  sketchy,  but  nev- 
ertheless very  expressive  and  masterly  drawings  of  birds, 
mei  s  outlines,  yet  full  of  spirit  and  most  suggestive.  I 
asked  my  host  where  these  things  came  from,  and  much 
to  my  surprise  he  informed  me  that  the  bits  of  paper  I 


^1 


T» 


A  Bird  Study, 


^99 


saw  were  shreds  and  patches  left  by  Audubon  some  years 
previously  at  his  house. 

"  Further  inquiry  developed  the  interesting  fact  that 
the  great  naturalist  occupied  a  room  for  months  together 
in  the  house  I  then  occupied  ;  in  fact,  it  was  his  headquar- 
ters, when  he  was  in  the  vicinity,  engaged  in  n^aking  up 
his  collection  of  Southern  birds.  Among  many  illustra- 
tive incidents  we  learned,  we  recall  two  or  three  as  the 
best  proof  that  can  be  given  that  Audubon's  was  too 
great  a  mind  to  be  marred  by  excessive  vanity. 

"My  host  informed  me  that  Audubon,  amOi  other 
things,  became  interested  in  a  little  bird,  not  as  large  as 
the  wren,  that  was  of  such  peculiar  gray  plumage,  that  it 
so  entirely  harmonized  with  the  bark  of  the  trees  it  in- 
habited, that  it  was  impossible  to  see  the  bird  except  by 
the  most  careful  observation.  In  fact,  the  bird  existed  in 
numbers  in  localities  where  its  existence  was  never  sus- 
pected. 

"  Audubon  expressed  his  determination  to  learn  the 
history  and  habits  of  this  bird,  and  bent  all  his  energies 
with  absorbing  interest  to  the  pursuit.  One  night  he 
came  home  greatly  excited,  saying  that  he  had  found  a 
pair  that  was  evidently  preparing  to  make  a  nest.  The 
next  morning  he  went  into  the  woods,  taking  v/ith  him  a 
telescopic  microscope.  This  scientific  instrument  he  erec- 
ted under  the  tree  that  gave  shelter  to  the  literally  invis- 
ible inhabitants  he  was  searching  for,  and,  making  a 
pillow  of  some  moss,  he  laid  upon  his  back,  and  looking 
through  the  telescope,  day  after  day,  noted  the  progress 
of  the  llctie  birds,  and,  after  three  weeks  of  such  patient 
labor,  felt  that  he  had  been  amply  rewarded  for  the  toil 
and  sacrifice  by  the  results  he  had  obtained.  It  was 
while  engaged  in  these  quiet  speculations  that  he  witness- 
ed so  many  things,  the  record  of  which  have  prompted 
superficial  thinkers  to  conclude  that  Audubon  drew  upon 


■  I!; 


I*"  %\ 


iHMif 


H?J 


! 


w 


'liiiji  ' 


II 
1 1 


1 


200 


Life  of  Audubon, 


ills  imagination,  and  not  upon  facts,  for  many  of  the  won 
derful  adventures  he  relates,  incidental  to  his  omitholo' 
gical  descriptions. 

"  Sitting  upi^n  the  gallery  of  the  planter's  house,  I  no* 
deed  some  distance  in  front  a  tall  magnolia  tree,  the  upper 
part  o!"  which  was  dead,  indicating  that  it  was  of  great 
age.  A  closer  examination  developed  the  fact  that  the 
very  topmost  horizontal  limb  had  been  artificially  remov- 
ed from  the  trunk,  instead  of  falling  to  the  ground  by 
the  natural  course  of  decay.  I  called  the  attention  oi 
my  host  to  the  fact,  and  he  informed  me  that  it  was  the 
result  of  one  of  Audubon's  fancies.  The  story  was  as 
follows  : 

"  One  evening  the  planter  and  the  naturalist  sat  to- 
gether on  the  gallery,  watching  the  decline  of  a  summer's 
day,  when  they  were  surprised  and  delighted  at  the  sud- 
den appearance  of  a  bald  eagle  that  was  circling  high  in 
the  heavens,  occasionally  flashing  with  peculiar  brilliancy, 
as  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  happened  to  strike  the  quiv- 
ering plumage.  The  noble  bird  gradually  descended 
toward  the  earth,  and  finally  settled  upon  the  very  limb 
that  had  been  cut  from  the  tree. 

"  As  soon  as  the  bird  alighted,  Audubon  got  up  very 
deliberately,  and,  going  into  his  room,  brought  out  his 
rifle  and  commenced  very  deliberately  drawing  a  charge 
of  mustard-seed  shot. 

"  *  You  had  better  hurry,'  said  the  planter,  *  that  bird 
seems  restless  already;  he  won't  keep  his  perch  long.* 

" '  Yes  he  will,'  said  Audubon,  almost  drawling  his 
words.  *  I  have  disturbed  that  eagle's  nest  to-day,  and 
he  is  now  engaged  in  examining  the  damage,  and  making 
his  calculations  about  the  danger  of  returning  home ; 
never  fear  his  flying  away  until  the  day  is  well  spent' 

•*  And  sure  enough,  said  the  planter,  Audubon  under- 
Stood  the  habits  of  the  eagle,  for  there  the  poor  bird  sat, 


m 


The  Eagle. 


2Q\ 


4ntil  Audubon  coo"y  leaded  his  rifle  with  a  bullet,  and 
then  like  a  serpent,  on  his  belly,  he  had  time  to  noiseless- 
'y,  and  unobserved  even  by  the  keen  eye  of  the  bird  oi 
Jove,  to  crawl  within  gun-shot.  I  must  confess  I  was 
excited.  I  could  see  the  bird,  standing  erect,  and  with 
earnest  gaze  looking  toward  his  nest,  his  mate  and  his 
young  in  the  distant  swamp.  I  had  lost  sight  of  Audubon  , 
he  was  buried  among  the  weeds  in  the  undergrowth  of 
the  intervening  ground.  Presently  a  sharp  rifle  report 
broke  upon  the  air,  a  puff"  of  smoke  rose  at  the  very  foot 
of  the  tree,  and  the  eagle  at  the  same  instant  flapped  his 
broad  wings,  made  an  ineffectual  struggle  to  bear  himself 
on  the  air,  and  then  turning  on  his  back  commenced  de- 
scending ingloriously  to  the  earth.  I  admired  Audubon's 
spirit,  knowledge  and  pluck,  but  I  must  confess  I  felt  sor- 
ly  for  the  poor  bird. 

"  In  a  few  minutes  Audubon  appeared  with  the 
wounded,  dying  monarch  in  his  possession.  He  called  our 
attention  to  the  wonderful  expression  of  the  eye,  which  at 
one  time  blazed  as  if  illuminated  with  fiie,  and  then  glaz- 
ed as  if  in  death.  As  the  sun  finally  disappeared,  the 
eagle  died. 

"Audubon  was  now  all  excitement,  he  called  up  a 
dozen  idle  negroes,  who  had  been  attracted  by  the  novelty 
of  the  event  they  witnessed,  and  ordered  them  to  make 
a  large  fire,  by  the  light  of  which,  in  a  few  hours,  he 
st':ffed  and  set  up  the  bird,  with  a  grace  and  naturalness 
that  almost  rivaled  life. 

"  The  next  morning,  on  examining  his  work,  he  said  it 
wanted  one  thing  more  to  make  it  complete,  and  acting 
upon  the  idea,  he  took  a  saw  and  with  great  peril  to  him- 
self and  a  vast  amount  of  labo!,  he  ascended  to  the  top 
of  the  magnolia  and  sawed  off"  the  limb,  the  butt  of  which 
attracted  your  notice  ;  this  secured,  he  put  the  eagle  upon 
it,  and  thus  restored  the  exact  resemblance  presenteo 
9* 


«: 


*      :' 


I  I 


.>.1' 


1  i 


202 


Life  of  Audubon. 


when  the  bird  in  all  its  native  grandeur,  sat  perched  on 
its  eyrie  the  impersonation  of  freedom — the  chosen  em 
blem  of  our  national  glory. 

"  That  Audubon  is  not  always  properly  appreciated,  is 
often  illustrated  ;  therefore,  criticism  may  be  expected. 
In  the  very  community  where  Audubon  lived  he  had,  as 
a  naturalist,  no  real  admirers.  In  the  early  days  we 
speak  of,  the  people  with  whom  he  mingled  were  content 
with  a  semi-weekly  mail,  and  it  was  the  custom  for  some 
person  who  had  a  loud  voice  to  read  out  to  the  crowd  the 
epitome  of  news  from  some  popular  northern  weekly  pa- 
per. On  one  of  these  occasions  the  following  item  was 
read: 

"  *  The  Emperor  Nicholas,  in  his  recent  trip  from  Eng- 
land to  Russia,  occupied  his  leisure  time  in  looking  over 
Audubon's  great  work  on  ornithology.  The  Emperor 
was  so  delighted  with  what  he  saw,  that  he  sent  the  great 
naturalist  a  costly  ring  set  with  diamonds,  as  a  mark  of 
his  appreciation  of  the  distinguished  author.' 

"  *  What's  that  ? '  said  one  of  the  listeners,  who  was 
noted  for  his  slovenly  dress  and  agrarian  politics ;  *  what's 
that  ?     Read  that  again.' 

"  The  request  was  complied  with. 

"  *  That's  just  my  idea  of  these  imperial  Emperors  ; 
they  never  have  anything  for  a  poor  man,  but  give  their 
diamonds  and  gold  to  loafing  cusses,  who  are  too  lazy  to 
work,  and  so  make  a  living  shooting  little  chippin-birds, 
and  then  drawing  their  picters.'  " 

He  remained  three  months  with  his  wife,  but  was 
still  actively  employed.  He  hunted  the  woods  for  birds 
and  animals,  and  brought  'hem  home  alive  or  freshly 
killed,  to  draw  from.  There  are  several  exquisite  unfin- 
ished deer-heads,  in  his  great  portfolio  of  unfinished 
drawings,  which  were  begun  at  that  time.  He  drew  also, 
at  this  time,  the  picture  of  the  "  Black  Vulture  Attacking 


England  Again. 


203 


the  Herd  of  Deer,"  several  large  hawks,  and  some  beau 
tiful  squirrels.  Having  added  considerably  to  his  col- 
lection, he  began  again  to  think  of  returning  to  England, 
to  increase  the  drawings  already  being  published  there. 

"  Our  plans,"  he  writes,  addressing  his  sons,  "were 
soon  arranged.  Your  mother  collected  the  moneys  due 
her,  and  on  the  first  of  January,  eighteen  hundred  and 
thirty,  we  started  for  New  Orleans,  taking  with  us  the  only 
three  servants  yet  belonging  to  us,  namely,  Cecilia,  and 
her  two  sons,  Reuben  and  Lewis.  We  stayed  a  few  days 
at  our  friend  Mr.  Brand's,  with  whom  we  left  our  servants, 
and  on  the  seventh  of  January  took  passage  in  the  splen- 
did steamer  Philadelphia  for  Louisville,  paying  sixty  dol- 
lars fare.  We  were  fourteen  days  getting  to  Louisville, 
having  had  some  trouble  with  the  engine.  I  passed  my 
time  there  at  Mr.  Berthond's  and  your  uncle  W.  Bake- 
vvell's,  and  amused  myself  hunting  and  stuffing  birds  until 
the  seventh  of  March,  when  we  took  a  steamer  for  Cin- 
cinnati, and  thence  to  Wheeling,  and  so  on  to  Washing- 
ton in  the  mail-coach.  Congress  was  in  session,  and  I 
exhibited  my  drawings  to  the  House  of  Representatives, 
and  receJved  their  subscription  as  a  body.  I  saw  the 
President,  Andrew  Jackson,  who  received  me  with  great 
kindness,  as  he  did  your  mother  also  afterwards.  I  be- 
came acquainted  with  the  Hon.  Edward  Everett,  Baron 
Krudener,  and  other  distinguished  persons,  and  we  left 
for  Baltimore.  There  my  drawings  were  exhibited,  and  I 
obtained  three  subscribers,  and  left  for  Philadelphia, 
where  we  remained  one  week.  I  saw  my  friends  Harlan, 
Mr.  McMurtrie,  and  Sully,  and  went  to  New  York,  from 
whence  we  sailed  in  the  packet-ship  Pacific,  Captain  R. 
Crocker,  for  England. 

"  After  a  passage  of  twenty-five  days,  on  which  noth- 
ing happened  worthy  of  record,  we  had  crossed  the  At 
lantic  and  arrived  safely  in  Liverpool. 


I      -i 


204 


Life  of  Audubon, 


"  In  England  everything  had  gone  well,  and  although 
my  list  of  subscribers  had  not  increased,  it  had  not  much 
diminished.  During  my  absence  I  had  been  elected  a 
fellow  of  the  Royal  Society  of  London,  for  which  I  be* 
lieve  I  am  indebted  to  Lord  Stanley  and  J.  S.  Children, 
Esq.,  of  the  British  Museum,  and  on  the  sixth  of  May  1 
took  my  seat  in  the  great  hall,  and  paid  my  entrance  fee 
of  fifty  pounds,  though  I  felt  myself  that  I  had  not  the 
qualifications  to  entitle  me  to  such  an  honor." 

Soon  after  his  arrival  in  England,  he  found  that  sub- 
scribers did  not  pay  up  as  regularly  as  he  expected,  and 
money  being  needed  to  push  forward  the  engraving  of 
the  "  Birds  of  America,"  he  again  resorted  to  his  pencil 
and  brush,  and  painted  birds  and  quadrupeds,  for  all  of 
which  he  found  a  ready  sale  at  satisfactory  prices.  Be- 
sides this  he  was  occupied  in  filling  up  the  ground-work 
of  many  of  his  drawings,  and  introducing  plants  and  trees 
which  had  at  first  been  given  only  in  outline.  His  stay 
at  London,  however,  was  not  long.  Mrs.  Audubon  having 
joined  him  there  after  a  few  weeks,  not  liking  a  residence 
in  the  city,  travelled  with  him  on  his  journeys  to  obtain 
new  subscribers. 

"  We  visited  Birmingham,  Manchester,  Leeds,  York, 
Hull,  Scarborough,  Whitby,  Newcastle,  and  received 
several  subscriptions  at  the  latter  place ;  and  my  former 
friends,  Mr.  Adamson  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Turner,  were 
quite  kind  to  us,  as  also  was  the  family  of  the  Earl  of 
Ravensworth.  On  our  way  to  Edinburgh  we  stopped  a 
few  days  and  were  hospitably  entertained  at  Twisel 
House,  by  Mr.  Selby. 

"  October  13,  1830.  We  reached  Edinburgh  safely, 
and  took  lodgings  at  my  old  boarding-house,  with  Mrs. 
Dickie,  where  we  were  made  very  comfortable." 

At  this  period  Audubon  began  to  prepare  his  "Or- 
nithological Biography  of  the  Birds  of  America,"  a  work 


^w 


m 


^he  Biography  of  Birds. 


205  , 


containing  nearly  three  thousand  pages,  and  published 
by  Mr.  Black  of  Edinburgh. 

"  I  applied  to  Mr.  James  Wilson,  to  ask  if  he  knew  ol 
any  person  who  would  undertake  to  correct  my  ungram- 
matical  manuscripts,  and  to  assist  me  in  arranging  the 
more  scientific  part  of  the  *  Biography  of  the  Birds.'  He 
gave  me  a  card  with  the  address  of  Mr.  W.  McGillivray, 
spoke  well  of  him  and  his  talents,  and  away  to  Mr.  Mc- 
Gillivray  I  went.  He  had  long  known  of  me  as  a  natu- 
ralist. I  made  known  my  business,  and  a  bargain  was 
soon  struck.  He  agreed  to  assist  me,  and  correct  my 
manuscripts  for  two  guineas  per  sheet  of  sixteen  pages, 
and  I  that  day  began  to  write  the  first  volume. 

"  A  few  days  after  I  began  writing  on  the  Biography, 
it  was  known  in  Edinburgh  that  I  had  arrived,  and  Pro- 
fessors Jameson,  Graham,  and  others  whom  I  had  known, 
called  on  me  ;  and  I  found  at  the  '  fourteenth  hour,'  that 
no  less  than  three  editions  of  *  Wilson's  Ornithology " 
were  about  to  be  published,  one  by  Jameson,  one  by  Sir 
W.  Jardine,  and  another  by  a  Mr.  Brown.  Most  persons 
would  probably  have  been  discouraged  by  this  informa- 
tion, but  it  only  had  a  good  effect  on  me,  because  since  I 
have  been  in  England  I  have  studied  the  character  of 
Englishmen  as  carefully  as  I  studied  the  birds  in  Am>-ri- 
ca.  And  I  know  full  well,  that  in  England  novelty  is  al- 
ways in  demand,  and  that  if  a  thing  is  well  known  it  will 
not  receive  much  support.  Wilson  has  had  his  day,, 
thought  I  to  myself,  and  now  is  my  time.  I  will  write, 
and  I  will  hope  to  be  read ;  and  not  only  so,  but  I  will 
push  my  publication  with  such  unremitting  vigor,  that  my 
book  shall  come  before  the  public  before  Wilson's  can 
be  got  out. 

"  Writing  now  became  the  order  of  the  day.  I  sat 
at  it  as  soon  as  I  awoke  in  the  morning,  and  continued 
the  whole  long  day,  and  so  ftill  was  my  mind  of  birds 


•'tfpsi 


2o6 


Life  of  Audubon. 


m 


and  their  habits,  that  in  my  sleep  I  continually  dreamed 
of  birds.  I  found  Mr.  Mc(jillivray  equally  industrious, 
for  althoupih  he  did  not  rise  so  early  in  the  morning  as  1 
did,  he  wrote  much  later  at  night  (this  I  am  told  is  a 
characteristic  of  all  great  writers) ;  and  so  the  manu- 
scripts went  on  increasing  in  bulk,  like  the  rising  of  a 
stream  after  abundant  rains,  and  before  three  months  had 
passed  the  first  volume  was  finished.  Meanwhile  your 
mother  copied  it  all  to  send  to  America,  to  secure  the 
copyright  there. 

"  I  made  an  arrangement  with  Mr.  Patrick  Neill,  the 
printer,  who  undertook  the  work,  for  I  was  from  neces- 
sity my  own  publisher.  I  offered  this  famous  book  tc 
two  booksellers,  neither  of  whom  would  give  me  a  shil- 
ling for  it,  and  it  was  fortunate  that  they  would  not ;  and 
most  happy  is  the  man  who  can,  as  I  did,  keep  himself 
independent  of  that  class  of  men  called  the  *  gentlemen 
of  the  trade.'  Poor  Wilson,  how  happy  he  would  have 
been,  if  he  had  had  it  in  his  power  to  bear  the  expenses 
of  his  own  beautiful  work  1 

'•'' March  13,  183 1.  My  book  is  now  on  the  eve  of  be- 
ing presented  to  the  world.  The  printing  will  be  com- 
pleted in  a  few  days,  and  I  have  sent  copies  of  the  sheets 
to  Dr.  Harlan  and  Mr.  McMurtrie,  at  Philadelphia,  and 
also  one  hundred  pounds  sterling  to  Messrs.  'I'.  Walker 
&  Sons,  to  be  paid  to  Dr.  Harlan  to  secure  the  copy- 
right, and  have  the  book  published  there. 

'■'■March  20,  1831.  Made  an  agreement  with  Mr.  J. 
E.  Kidd,  a  young  painter  whom  I  have  known  for  the  last 
four  years,  to  copy  some  of  my  drawings  in  oil,  and  to 
put  backgrounds  to  them,  so  as  to  make  them  appear 
like  pictures.  It  was  our  intention  to  send  them  to  the 
exhibition  for  sale,  and  to  divide  the  amount  between  us. 
He  painted  eight,  and  then  I  proposed,  if  he  would  paint 
the  one  hundred  engravings  which  comprise  my  first  vol- 


Balance-Sheet  of  the  Great  PVork,       207 


ume  of  the  'Birds  of  America,'  I  would  pay  him  one 
hundred  pounds. 

^^ April  15.  We  left  Edinburgh  this  day,  and  proceed 
ed  towards  London  by  the  way  of  Newcastle,  York,  Leeds, 
Manchester,  and  Liverpool.  At  the  latter  place  we  spent 
a  few  days,  and  travelled  on  that  extraordinary  road 
called  the  railway,  at  the  rate  of  twenty-four  miles  an 
hour.  On  arriving  at  London  I  found  it  urgent  for  me 
to  visit  Paris,  to  collect  monies  due  me  by  my  agent 
(Pitois)  there. 

"  Several  reviews  of  my  work  have  appeared  ;  one  in 
*  Blackwood's  Magazine '  is  particularly  favorable.  The 
editor,  John  Wilson  of  Edinburgh,  is  a  clever  good  fellow, 
and  I  wrote  to  thank  him.  Dr.  Tuke,  an  Irishman  of  lively 
manners,  brought  the  editors  of  the  '  Atlas '  to  see  my 
Birds,  and  they  have  praised  also.  We  have  received 
letters  from  America  of  a  cheering  kind,  and  which  raised 
my  dull  spirits,  but  in  spile  of  all  this  I  feel  dull,  rough 
in  temper,  and  long  for  nothing  so  much  as  my  dear 
woods.  I  have  balanced  my  accounts  with  the  *  Birds 
of  America,'  and  the  whole  business  is  really  wonderful ; 
forty  thousand  dollars  have  passed  through  my  hands  for 
the  completion  of  the  first  volume.  Who  would  believe 
that  a  lonely  individual,  who  landed  in  England  without 
a  ^riend  in  the  whole  ».ountry,  and  with  only  sufficient  pe 
cuniary  means  to  travel  through  it  as  a  visitor,  could  have 
accomplished  such  a  task  as  this  publication  ?  Who 
would  believe  that  once  in  London  Audubon  had  only 
one  sovereign  left  in  his  pocket,  and  did  not  know  of  a 
single  individual  to  whom  he  could  apply  to  borrow  an- 
other, when  he  was  on  the  verge  of  failure  in  the  very 
beginning  of  his  undertaking  ;  and  above  all,  who  would 
believe  that  he  extricated  himself  from  all  his  difficulties, 
not  by  borrowing  money,  but  by  rising  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  working  hard  all  day,  and  disposing  of  his 


V'i 


m 


f 


f 


11 : 


'H 


: 


! 


■H 


208 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


works  at  a  price  which  a  common  laborer  would  have 
thought  little  more  than  sufficient  remuneration  for  his 
work  ?  To  give  you  an  idea  of  my  actual  difficulties  during 
the  publication  of  my  first  volume,  it  will  be  sufficient  to 
say,  that  in  the  four  years  required  to  bring  that  volume 
before  the  world,  no  less  than  fifty  of  my  subscribers,  re 
presenting  the  sum  of  fifty-six  thousand  dollars,  aban- 
doned me  I  And  whenever  a  few  withdrew  I  was  forced 
to  leave  London,  and  go  to  the  provinces  to  obtain  others 
to  supply  their  places,  in  order  to  enable  me  to  raise  the 
money  to  meet  the  expenses  of  engraving,  coloring,  pa- 
per, printing,  &c. ;  and  that  with  all  my  constant  exer- 
tions, fatigues,  and  vexations,  I  find  myself  now  having 
but  one  hundred  and  thirty  standing  names  on  my  list. 

"  England  is  most  wealthy,  and  among  her  swarms  ot 
inhabitants  there  are  many  whom  I  personally  know,  and 
to  whom,  if  I  were  to  open  my  heart,  there  would  be  a 
readiness  to  help  me  for  the  sake  of  science ;  but  my 
heart  revolts  from  asking  such  a  favor,  and  I  will  con- 
tinue to  trust  in  that  Providence  which  has  helped  me 
thus  far." 

The  sixth  volume  of  the  journal  abruptly  ends  with 
the  above  paragraph.  But  intimations  are  given  in  the 
last  chapter,  of  Audubon's  intention  to  return  to  America 
as  soon  as  possible.  He  knew  of  regions  which  he  had 
not  explored,  where  he  felt  confident  he  could  make  large 
additions  of  new  birds  to  his  collection :  and  anxious  to 
enrich  his  store,  after  making  the  same  careful  prepara- 
tions as  before  to  have  his  work  go  on  during  his  absence, 
he  sailed  once  more  for  his  native  land. 

On  September  3,  183 1,  Audubon  landed  in  New  York. 
After  spending  a  few  days  with  relatives  and  friends  he 
went  to  Boston,  and  was  hospitably  received  by  his 
fiiends.  There  he  remained  but  a  short  time,  having  re- 
solved to  spend  the  winter  in  East  Florida. 


Florida. 


209 


All  the  most  interesting  incidents  of  what  he  called  a 
rather  unprofitable  expedition  were  woven  by  Audubon 
into  the  striking  episodes  given  in  this  and  subsequent 
chapters. 

"  Soon  after  landing  at  St.  Augustine,  in  East  Florida, 
I  formed  an  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Simmons,  Dr.  Por- 
cher.  Judge  Smith,  the  Misses  Johnson,  and  many  other 
individuals,  my  intercourse  with  whom  was  as  agreea- 
ble as  it  was  beneficial  to  me.  While  in  this  part  of  the 
peninsula  I  followed  my  usual  avocations,  although  with 
little  success,  it  being  then  winter.  I  had  letters  from  the 
secretaries  of  the  navy  and  treasury  of  the  United  States, 
to  the  commanding  officers  of  vessels  of  war  in  the  rev- 
enue service,  directing  them  to  afford  me  any  assistance 
in  their  power  j  and  the  schooner  Shark  having  come  to 
St.  Augustine,  on  her  way  to  the  St.  John's  river,  I 
presented  my  credentials  to  her  commander.  Lieutenant 
Piercy,  who  readily,  and  with  politeness,  received  me  and 
my  assistants  on  board.  We  soon  after  set  sail,  with  a 
fair  breeze. 

"  The  strict  attention  to  duty  on  board  even  this  small 
vessel  of  war  afforded  matter  of  surprise  to  me.  Every- 
thing went  on  with  the  regularity  of  a  chronometer : 
orders  were  given,  answered  to,  and  accomplished,  before 
they  ceased  to  vibrate  on  the  ear.  The  neatness  of  the 
crew  equalled  the  cleanliness  of  the  white  planks  of  the 
deck ;  the  sails  were  in  perfect  condition,  and  built  as  the 
Shark  was  for  swift  sailing,  on  she  went  bowling  from 
wave  to  wave.  I  thought  that,  while  thus  sailing,  no  feel- 
ing but  that  of  pleasure  could  exist  in  our  breasts.  Alas  1 
how  fleeting  are  our  enjoyments.  When  we  were  almost 
at  the  entrance  of  the  river  the  wind  changed,  the  sky  be- 
came clouded,  and  before  many  minutes  had  elapsed  tJie 
little  bark  was  lying  to,  *  like  a  duck,'  as  her  commander 
expressed  himself    It  blew  a   hurricane  :  let   it  blow, 


■  {'>, 


\i\ 


m 


2IO 


Life  of  Audubon, 


I 


ii.  ''m 


reader.  At  the  break  of  day  we  were  again  at  anchoi 
within  the  bar  of  St.  Augustine.  Our  next  attempt  was 
successful.  Not  many  hours  after  we  had  crossed  the  bar 
we  perceived  the  star-like  glimmer  of  the  light  in  the 
great  lantern  at  the  entrance  into  the  St.  John's  river. 
This  was  before  daylight ;  and  as  the  crossing  of  the 
sand-banks  or  bars  which  occur  at  the  mouths  of  all  the 
streams  of  this  peninsula  is  difficult,  and  can  be  accom- 
plished only  when  the  tide  is  up,  one  of  the  guns  was  fired 
as  a  signal  for  the  government  pilot.  The  good  man  it 
seemed  was  unwilling  to  leave  his  couch,  but  a  second 
gun  brought  him  in  his  canoe  alongside.  The  depth  of 
the  channel  was  barely  sufficient.  My  eyes,  however, 
were  not  directed  towards  the  waters,  but  on  high,  where 
flew  some  thousands  of  *  snowy  pelicans,'  which  had  fled 
affrighted  from  their  resting  grounds.  How  beautifully 
they  performed  their  broad  gyrations,  and  how  matchless 
after  a  while,  was  the  marshalling  of  their  files  as  they 
flew  past  us ! 

"  On  the  tide  we  proceeded  apace.  Myriads  of  cor- 
morants covered  the  face  of  the  waters,  and  over  it  the 
fish-crows  innumerable  were  already  arriving  from  their 
distant  roosts.  We  landed  at  one  place  to  search  for 
the  birds  whose  charming  melodies  had  engaged  our  at- 
tention, and  here  and  there  we  shot  some  young  eagles, 
to  add  to  our  store  of  fresh  provision.  The  river  did 
not  seem  to  me  equal  in  beauty  to  the  fair  Ohio ;  the 
shores  were  in  many  places  low  and  swampy,  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  numberless  herons  that  moved  along  in 
gracefulness,  and  the  grim  alligators  that  swam  in  slug- 
gish sullenness.  In  going  up  a  bayou  we  caught  a  great 
number  of  the  young  of  the  latter,  for  the  purpose  of 
making  experiments  upon  them.  After  sailing  a  con- 
siderable way,  during  which  our  commander  and  officers 
took  the  soundings,  as  well  as  the  angles  and  bearings  oi 


lid 


in 


ITS 

of 


The  St,  John's  River, 


1\\ 


every  nook  and  crook  of  the  sinuous  stream,  we  anchored 
one  evening  at  a  distance  of  fully  one  hundred  miles  from 
the  mouth  of  the  river.     The  weather,  although  it  was  the 
1 2  th  of  Februar}',  was  quite  warm,  the  thermometer  on 
board  standing  at  75°,  and  c.i   shore   at  90°.     The   fog 
was  so  thick  that  neither  of  the  shores  could  be  seen,  and 
yet  the  river  was  not  a  mile  in  breadth.     The  'blind 
mosquitoes  '  covered  every  object,  even  in  the  cabin,  and 
so  wonderfully  abundant  were  these  tormentors,  that  they 
more  than  once  extinguished  the  candles  whilst  I   was 
writing  my  journal,  which  I  closed  in  despair,  crushing 
between  the    leaves  more  than  a  hundred  of  the  little 
wretches.     Bad  as  they  are,  however,  these  blind  mos- 
quitoes do  not  bite.     As  if  purposely  to  render  our  situa- 
tion doubly  uncomfortable,  there  was  an  establishment 
for  jerking  beef  on  the  nearer  shore  to  the  windward  of 
our  vessel,  from  which  the  breeze  came  laden  with  no 
sweet  odors.     In  the  morning  when  I  arose  the  country 
was  still  covered   with  thick   fogs,  so   that   although  I 
could  plainly  hear  the  notes  of  the  birds  on  shore,  not 
an  object  could  I  see  beyond  the  bowsprit,  and  the  air 
was  as  close  and  sultry  as  on  the  previous  evening. 

"  Guided  by  the  scent  of '  jerkers'  works,'  we  went  on 
shore,  where  we  found  the  vegetation  already  far  ad- 
vanced. The  bbssoms  of  the  jessamine,  ever  pleasing, 
lay  steeped  in  dew ;  the  humming-bee  was  collecting  her 
winter  store  from  the  snowy  flowers  of  the  native  orange  j 
and  the  little  warblers  frisked  about  the  twigs  of  the 
smilax.  Now,  amid  the  tall  pines  of  the  forest,  the  sun's 
rays  began  to  force  their  way,  and  as  the  dense  mists 
dissolved  in  the  atmosphere  the  bright  luminary  shone 
forth.  We  explored  the  woods  around,  guided  by  some 
friendly  '  live  oakers,'  who  had  pitched  their  camp  in  the 
vicinity.  After  a  while  the  Shark  again  displayed  her 
sails,  and  as  she  silently  glided  along,  we  espied  a  Semi* 


■'iii 


Ml 


■  ;:  '<,;;p' 


I  i; 


'J' 


m 


rt 


'IS' 

m 


I 


ill 


I 


il 


I 


212 


Life  of  Audubon. 


nole  Indian  approaching  us  in  his  canoe.  This  poor  de- 
jected son  of  the  woods,  endowed  with  talents  of  the 
highest  order,  although  rarely  acknowledged  by  the  proud 
usurpers  of  his  native  soil,  has  spent  the  night  in  fishing, 
and  the  morning  in  procuring  the  superb  feathered  game 
of  the  swampy  thickets,  and  with  both  he  comes  to  offer 
them  for  our  acceptance.  Alas  !  th'^u  fallen  one,  de- 
scendant of  an  ancient  line  of  free-born  hunters,  would 
that  I  could  restore  co  thee  thy  birthright,  thy  natural  in- 
dependence, the  generous  feelings  that  were  once  foster- 
ed in  thy  brave  bosom  I  But  the  irrevocable  deed  is 
done,  and  I  can  merely  admire  the  perfect  symmetry  of 
his  frame,  as  he  dexterously  throws  on  our  deck  the  trout 
and  turkeys  which  he  has  captured.  He  receives  a  re- 
compense, and  without  a  smile  or  bow,  or  acknowledg- 
ment of  any  kind,  off  he  starts  with  the  speed  of  an  ar- 
row from  his  own  bow. 

"  Alligators  were  extremely  abundant,  and  the  heads 
of  the  fishes  which  they  had  snapped  off  lay  floating 
around  on  the  dark  waters.  A  rifle  bullet  was  now  and 
then  sent  through  the  eye  of  one  of  the  largest,  which, 
with  a  tremendous  splash  of  its  tail,  expired.  One  morn- 
ing we  saw  a  monstrous  fellow  lying  on  the  shore.  I 
was  desirous  of  obtaining  him,  to  make  an  accurate  draw- 
ing of  his  head,  and,  accompanied  by  my  assistant  and 
two  of  the  sailors,  proceedecl  cautiously  towards  him. 
When  within  a  few  yards,  one  of  us  fired,  and  sent 
through  his  side  an  ounce  ball,  which  tore  open  a  hole 
large  enough  to  receive  a  man's  hand.  He  slowly  raised 
his  head,  bent  himself  upwards,  opened  his  huge  jaws, 
swung  his  tail  to  and  fro,  rose  on  his  legs,  blew  in  a 
frightful  manner,  and  fell  to  the  earth.  My  assistant 
leaped  on  shore,  and,  contrary  to  my  injunctions,  caught 
hold  of  the  animal's  tail,  when  the  alligator,  awakening 
from  its  trance,  with  a  last  effort  crawled  slowly  towards 


Alligators, 


213 


the  water,  and  plunged  heavily  into  it.  Had  he  thought 
of  once  flourishing  his  tremendous  weapon,  there  might 
have  been  an  end  of  his  assailant's  life ;  but  he  fortu- 
nately went  in  peace  to  his  grave,  where  we  left  him,  as 
the  water  was  '^oo  deep.  The  same  morning,  another  of 
equal  size  was  observed  swimming  directly  for  the  bows 
of  our  vessel,  attracted  by  the  gentle  rippling  of  the 
water  there.  One  of  the  officers  who  had  watched  him 
fired,  and  scattered  his  brains  through  the  air,  when  he 
tumbled  and  rolled  at  a  fearful  rate,  blowing  all  the  while 
most  furiously.  The  river  was  bloody  for  yards  around, 
but  although  the  monster  passed  close  by  the  vessel,  we 
could  not  secure  him,  and  after  a  while  he  sank  to  the 
bottom. 

"  Early  one  morning  I  hired  a  boat  and  two  men, 
with  a  view  of  returning  to  St.  Augustine  by  a  short  cut 
Our  baggage  being  placed  on  board,  I  bade  adieu  to  the 
officers  and  crew,  and  off  we  started.  About  four  in  the 
afternoon  we  arrived  at  the  short  cut,  forty  miles  distant 
from  our  point  of  departure,  and  where  we  had  expected 
to  procure  a  waggon,  but  were  disappointed  :  so  we  laid 
our  things  on  the  bank,  and  leaving  one  of  my  assistants 
to  look  after  them,  I  set  out,  accompanied  by  the  other 
and  my  Newfoundland  dog.  We  had  eighteen  miles  to 
go,  and  as  the  sun  was  only  two  hours  high,  we  struck  off 
at  a  good  rate.  Presently  we  entered  a  pine  barren. 
The  country  was  as  level  as  a  floor ;  our  path,  although 
narrow,  was  well  beaten,  having  been  used  by  the  Semi- 
nole Indians  for  ages ;  and  the  weather  was  calm,  and 
now  and  then  a  rivulet  occurred,  from  which  we  quenched 
our  thirst,  while  the  magnolias  and  other  flowering  plants 
on  its  banks  relieved  the  dull  uniformity  of  the  woods. 
When  the  path  separated  into  two  branches,  both  seem- 
ingly leading  the  same  way,  I  would  follow  one,  while 
my  companion  took  the  other,  r.nd  unless  we  met  again 


-  !' 


n\ 


£14 


Life  of  Audubon. 


If  1,: 


in  a  short  time,  one  of  us  would  go  across  the  interven 
ing  forest.     The  sun  went  down  behind  a  cloud,  and  the 
south-east  breeze  that  sprung  up  at  this  moment  sounded 
dolefully  among  the  tall  pines.     Along  the  eastern  hori- 
zon lay  a  bed  of  black  vapor,  which  gradually  lose,  and 
soon  covered  the  heavens.     The  air  felt  hot  and  oppres- 
sive, and   we   knew  that  a    tempest   was   approaching. 
Plato  was  now  our  guide,  the  white  spots  on  his  skin  be- 
ing the  only  objects  we  could  discern  amid  the  darkness  \ 
and  as  if  aware  of  his  utility  in  this  respect,  he  kept  a 
short  way  before  us  on  the  trail.     Had  we  imagined  our- 
selves more  than  a  few  miles  from  the  town,  we  would 
have  made  a  camp,  and  remained  under  its  shelter  for 
the  night ;  but  conceiving  that  the  distance  could  not  be 
great,  we  resolved  to  trudge  along.     Large  drops  began 
to  fall  from  the  murky  mass  overhead  ;  thick  impenetra- 
ble darkness  surrounded  us,  and,  to  my  dismay,  the  dog 
refused   to  proceed.     Groping  with   my    hands  on  the 
ground,  J  discovered  that  several  trails  branched  out  at 
the  spot  where  he  lay  down,  and  when  I  had  selected 
one  he  went  on.     Vivid  flashes  of  lightning  streamed 
across  the  heavens,  the  wind  increased  to  a  gale,  and  the 
rain  poured  down  upon  us  like  a  torrent.     The  water 
soon  rose  on  the  level  ground,  so  as  almost  to  cover  our 
feet,   and   we   slowly   advanced,   fronting  the    tempest. 
Here  and  there  a  tall  pine  f     fire  presented  a  magnifi- 
cent spectacle,  illumining  the  trees  around  it,  and  sur- 
rounded with  a  halo  of  dim  light,  abruptly  bordered  with 
the  deep  black  oi  the  night.     At  one  time  we  passed 
through  a  tangled  thicket  of  low  trees,  at  another  crossed 
a  stream  flushed  by  the  heavy  rains,  and  again  proceed- 
ed over  the  barrens.     How  long  we  thus,  half  lost, 
groped  our  way,  is  more  than  I  can  tell  you,  I:  it  at  length 
the  tempest  passed  over,  and  suddenly  the  clear  sky  be- 
came spangled  with  stars.     Soon  after  we  smelt  the  sail 


m 


Out  of  the  Woods, 


215 


marshes,  and  walking  directly  towards  thein,  like  pointers 
advancing  on  a  covey  of  partridges,  we  at  last,  to  our 
great  joy,  descried  the  light  of  the  beacon  near  St.  Au- 
gustine. My  dog  began  to  run  briskly  around,  and  hav- 
ing met  with  ground  on  which  he  had  hunted  before,  and 
taking  a  direct  course,  led  us  to  the  great  causeway  that 
crosses  the  marshes  at  the  back  of  the  town.  We  re- 
freshed ourselves  with  the  produce  of  the  first  orange-tree 
that  we  met  with,  and  in  half  an  hour  more  arrived  at  our 
hotel.  Drenched  with  rain,  steaming  with  perspiration, 
and  covered  to  the  knees  with  mud,  you  may  imagine 
what  figures  we  cut  in  the  eyes  of  the  good  people  whom 
we  found  snugly  enjoying  themselves  in  the  sitting-room. 
Next  morning  Major  Gates,  who  had  received  me  with 
much  kindness,  sent  a  waggon  with  mules  and  two  trusty 
soldiers  for  my  companion  and  the  luggage." 


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CHAPTER  XV, 

Floridian  Episodes —  Tfie  Live  Oakers. 

HE  greater  part  of  the  forests  of  East  Florida 
consists  principally,  of  what  in  that  country  are 
called  'pine  barrens.'  In  these  districts  the 
woods  are  rather  thin,  and  the  only  trees  that  are  seen  in 
them  are  tall  pines,  of  rather  indifferent  quality,  beneath 
which  is  a  growth  of  rank  grass,  here  and  there  mixed 
with  low  bushes  and  sword  palmettoes.  The  soil  is  of  a 
sandy  nature,  mostly  flat,  and  consequently  either  covered 
with  water  during  the  rainy  sei'son,  or  parched  in  the 
summer  and  autumn,  although  you  meet  at  times  with 
ponds  of  stagnant  water,  where  the  cattle — which  are 
abundant — allay  their  thirst,  and  around  which  resort  the 
various  kinds  of  game  found  in  these  wilds.  The  travel- 
ler who  has  pursued  his  course  for  many  miles  over  the 
barrens,  is  suddenly  delighted  to  see  in  the  distance  the 
appearance  of  a  dark  'hummock'  of  live  oaks  and  other 
trees,  seeming  as  if  they  had  been  planted  in  the  wilder- 
ness. As  he  approaches,  the  air  feels  cooler  and  more 
salubrious,  the  song  of  numerous  birds  delights  his  ear, 
the  herbage  assumes  a  more  luxuriant  appearance,  the 
flowers  become  larger  and  brighter,  and  a  grateful  fi:a- 
gjrance  is  diffused  around.  These  objects  contribute  to 
refresh  his  mind,  as  much  as  the  sight  of  the  waters  of 
some  clear  spring,  gliding  among  the  undergrowth,  seems 
already  to  allay  his  thirst.  Overhead  festoons  of  innu- 
merable vines,  jessamines,  and  bignonias,  link  each  tree 
with  those  around  it,  their  slender  stems  being  interlaced 


Woodcutters, 


1\n 


as  if  in  mutual  affection.  No  sooner  in  the  shade  of 
these  beautiful  woods  has  the  traveller  finished  his  mid 
day  repast,  than  he  perceives  small  parties  of  men,  lightly 
accoutred,  and  each  bearing  an  axe,  approaching  towards 
his  resting-place.  They  exchange  the  usual  civilities,  and 
immediately  commence  their  labors,  for  they  too  have  just 
finished  their  meal.  I  think  I  see  them  proceeding  to 
their  work.  Here  two  have  stationed  themselves  on  the 
opposite  sides  of  the  trunk  of  a  noble  and  v^^nerable  live 
oak.  Their  keen-edged  and  well-tempered  axes  seem  to 
make  no  impression  on  it,  so  small  are  the  chips  that  drop 
at  each  blow  around  the  mossy  and  wide-spreading  roots. 
There  one  is  ascending  the  stem  of  another,  the  arms  of 
which  in  its  fall,  have  stuck  among  the  tangled  tops  of 
the  neighboring  trees.  See  how  cautiously  he  proceeds, 
barefooted,  and  with  a  handkerchief  around  his  head ; 
now  he  has  climbed  to  the  height  of  about  forty  feet  from 
the  ground ;  he  stops,  and  squaring  himself  with  the  trunk 
on  which  he  so  boldly  stands,  he  wields  with  sinewy  arms 
his  trusty  blade,  the  repeated  blows  of  which, — although 
the  tree  be  as  tough  as  it  is  large, — will  soon  sever  it  in 
two.  He  has  changed  sides,  and  his  back  is  turned  to 
you.  The  trunk  now  remains  connected  by  only  a  thin 
strip  of  wood.  He  places  his  feet  on  the  part  which  is 
lodged,  and  shakes  it  with  all  his  might.  Now  swings 
the  huge  log  under  his  leaps,  now  it  suddenly  gives  way, 
and  as  it  strikes  upon  the  ground,  its  echoes  are  repeated 
through  the  hummock,  and  every  wild  turkey  within  hear- 
ing utters  his  gobble  of  recognition.  The  woodcutter, 
however,  remains  'collected  and  composed,'  but  the  next 
moment  he  throws  his  axe  to  the  ground,  and  assisted  by 
the  nearest  grape-vine,  slides  down,  and  reaches  the  earth 
in  an  instant.  Several  men  approach  and  examine  the  pros- 
trate trunk.  They  cut  at  both  extremities,  and  sound  the 
whole  of  the  bark,  to  enable  them  to  judge  if  the  tree 
10 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


has  been  attacked  by  white  rot.  If  such  has  unfortunate 
ly  been  the  case,  there,  for  a  century  or  more,  this  huge 
log  will  remain,  till  it  gradually  crumbles ;  but  if  not,  and 
il  is  free  of  injury  or  'wind  shakes,'  while  there  is  no  ap- 
pearance of  the  sap  having  already  ascended,  and  its 
pores  are  altogether  sound,  they  proceed  to  take  its  meas- 
urement. Tts  shape  ascertained,  and  the  timber  that  is 
fit  for  use  laid  out  by  the  aid  of  models,  which,  like  frag- 
ments of  the  skeleton  of  a  ship,  show  the  forms  and  sizes 
required,  the  '  hewers '  commence  their  labors. 

"  Thus,  reader,  perhaps  every  known  hummock  in  the 
Floriclas  is  annually  attacked  ;  and  so  often  does  it  hap- 
pen that  the  white  rot,  or  some  other  disease,  has  deteri- 
orated the  quality  of  the  timber,  that  the  woods  may  be 
seen  strewn  with  trunks  that  have  been  found  worthless, 
so  that  every  year  these  valuable  oaks  are  becoming 
scarcer.  The  destruction  of  the  young  trees  of  this  spe- 
cies, caused  by  the  fall  of  the  great  trunks,  is  of  course 
immense ;  and  as  there  are  no  artificial  plantations  of 
these  trees  in  our  country,  before  long  a  good-sized  live 
oak  will  be  so  valuable,  that  its  owner  will  exact  an 
enormous  price  for  it,  even  while  it  yet  stands  in  the 
wood.  In  my  opinion,  formed  on  personal  observation, 
live-oak  hummocks  are  not  quite  as  plentiful  as  the}'  are 
represented  to  be ;  and  of  this  I  will  give  you  one  illus- 
tration. 

"On  the  25th  of  February,  1832,  I  happened  to  be 
far  up  St.  John's  River,  East  Florida,  in  company  with  a 
person  employed  by  our  government  in  protecting  the  'live 
oaks'  of  that  section  of  the  country,  and  who  received  a 
good  salary  for  his  trouble.  While  we  were  proceeding 
along  one  of  the  banks  of  that  most  singular  river,  my 
companion  pointed  out  some  large  hummocks  of  dark- 
leaved  trees  on  the  opposite  side,  which  he  said  were  en- 
tirely formed  of  li\  e  oaks.     I  thought  differently,  and  zs 


"  Live  Oakers. 


*i 


219 


our  controversy  on  the  subject  became  a  little  wann,  1 
proposed  that  our  men  should  row  us  to  the  place,  where 
we  might  examine  the  leaves  and  timber,  and  so  decide 
the  point.  We  soon  landed,  but  after  inspecting  the 
woods,  not  a  single  tree  of  the  species  did  we  find,  al- 
though there  were  thousands  of  large  *  swamp  oaks.'  M5 
companion  acknowledged  his  mistake,  and  I  continued  to 
search  for  birds. 

"  One  dark  evening,  as  I  was  seated  on  the  banks  of 
the  same  river,  considering  what  arrangements  I  should 
make  for  the  night, — as  it  began  to  rain  in  torrents, — a 
man,  who  happened  to  see  me,  came  up  and  invited  me 
to  go  to  his  cabin,  which  he  said  was  not  far  off.  I  ac- 
cepted this  kind  offer,  and  followed  him  to  his  humble 
dwelling.  There  I  found  his  wife,  several  children,  and 
a  number  of  men,  who,  as  my  host  told  me,  were,  like 
himself,  *  live  oakers.*  Supper  was  placed  on  a  large  ta- 
ble, and  on  being  desired  to  join  the  party,  I  willingly 
assented,  doing  my  best  to  diminish  the  contents  of  the 
tin  pans  and  dishes  set  before  the  company  by  the  active 
and  agreeable  housewife.  We  then  talked  of  the  country, 
its  climate  and  productions,  until  a  late  hour,  when  we 
laid  ourselves  down  on  bear-skins,  and  reposed  till  day- 
break. 

"  I  longed  to  accompany  these  hardy  woodcutters  to  the 
hummock,  where  they  were  engaged  in  preparing  live  oak 
timber  for  a  man-of-war.  Provided  with  axes  and  guns, 
we  left  the  house  to  the  care  of  the  wife  and  children,  and 
proceeded  for  several  miles  through  a  pine  barren,  such 
as  I  have  attempted  to  describe.  One  fine  old  turkey 
was  shot,  and  when  we  arrived  at  the  shanty,  put  up  neai 
the  hummock,  we  found  another  party  of  woodcutters 
waiting  our  arrival  before  eating  their  breakfast,  already 
prepared  by  a  negro  man,  to  whom  the  t^irkey  was  con 
signed,   to   be  roasted  for  a  part  of  that  day's  dinnei 


■ 

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2  20 


Life  of  Judubon, 


Our  repast  was  an  excellent  one,  and  vied  with  a  Ken 
aicky  breakfast.  Beef,  fish,  potatoes  and  other  vege 
tables,  were  served  up"  with  coffee  in  tin  cups,  and  plenty 
of  biscuit.  Every  man  seemed  hungry  and  happy,  and 
the  conversation  assumed  the  most  humorous  character. 
The  sun  now  rose  above  the  trees,  and  all  excepting  the 
cook  proceeded  to  the  hummock,  on  which  I  had  been 
gazing  with  great  delight,  as  it  promised  rare  sport.  My 
host,  I  found,  was  the  chief  of  the  party ;  and  although 
he  had  an  axe,  he  made  no  other  use  of  it  than  for  strip- 
ping here  and  there  pieces  of  bark  from  certain  trees, 
which  he  considered  of  doubtful  soundness.  He  was  not 
only  well  versed  in  his  profession,  but  generally  intelli- 
gent, and  from  him  I  received  the  following  account, 
which  I  noted  at  the  time. 

"The  men  employed  in  cutting  the  live  oak,  after 
having  discovered  a  good  hummock,  build  shanties  of 
small  logs,  to  retire  to  at  night  and  feed  in  by  day.  Their 
provisions  consist  of  beef,  pork,  potatoes,  biscuit,  rice, 
flour,  and  fish,  together  with  excellent  whiskey.  They 
are  mostly  hale,  strong,  and  active  men,  from  the  eastern 
parts  of  the  Union,  and  receive  excellent  wages,  accord- 
ing to  their  different  abilities.  Their  labors  are  only  of  a 
few  months'  duration.  Such  hummocks  as  are  found  »-tear 
navigable  streams  are  first  chosen,  and  when  it  is  abso- 
lutely neces-  ary,  this  timber  is  hauled  five  or  six  miles  to 
the  nearest  water-course,  where,  although  it  sinks,  it  can, 
with  comparative  ease,  be  shipped  to  its  destination. 
The  best  time  for  cutting  the  *  live  oak'  is  considered  to 
be  fi:om  the  first  of  December  to  the  first  of  March,  or 
wliile  the  sap  is  completely  down.  When  the  sap  is  flow- 
ing the  tree  is  *  bloom,'  and  more  apt  to  be  *  shaken.* 
The  white  rot,  which  occurs  so  fi^equently  in  the  live  oak, 
and  is  perceptible  only  by  the  best  judges,  consists  of 
round  spots,  about  an  inch  and  a  half  in  diameter,  on  the 


fVhite  Rot, 


221 


outside  of  the  bark,  through  which,  at  that  spot,  a  hard 
stick  may  be  driven  several  inches,  and  generally  follows 
the  heart  up  or  down  the  trunk  of  the  tree.  So  deceiving 
are  these  spots  and  trees  to  persons  unacquainted  with  this 
defect,  that  thousands  of  trees  are  cut  and  abandoned. 
The  great  number  of  trees  of  this  sort  strewn  in  the  woods 
would  tend  to  make  a  stranger  believe  that  there  is  much 
more  good  oak  in  the  country  than  there  really  is ;  and 
perhaps,  in  reality,  not  more  than  one  fourth  of  the  quan- 
tity usually.rcported  is  to  be  procured.  The  Mive  oakers  * 
generally  revisit  their  distant  homes  in  the  middle  and 
eastern  states,  where  they  spend  the  summer,  returning 
to  the  Floridas  at  the  approach  of  winter.  Some,  how- 
ever, who  have  gone  there  with  their  families,  remain  for 
years  in  succession,  although  they  suffer  much  from  the 
climate,  by  which  their  once  good  constitutions  are  often 
greatly  impaired.  This  was  the  case  with  the  individual 
above  mentioned,  from  whom  I  subsequently  received 
much  friendly  assistance  in  my  pursuits." 


'I'^i 


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I  ill 

■  111* 

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n  m 


Hi 


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m 


'1 


CHAPTER  XVL 

Second  Florida  Episode  :  The  Lost  One. 

'LIVE  OAKER  '  employed  on  the  St.  John's 
River,  in  East  Florida,  left  his  cabin — situated 
on  the  banks  of  that  stream — and,  with  an  axe 
on  his  shoulder,  proceeded  towards  the  swamp,  in  which 
he  had  several  times  before  plied  his  trade  of  felling  and 
squaring  the  giant  trees  that  afford  the  most  valuable  tim- 
ber for  naval  architecture  and  other  purposes.  At  the 
season  which  is  the  best  for  this  kind  of  labor,  heavy  fogs 
not  unfrequently  cover  the  country,  so  as  to  render  it  diffi- 
cult lor  one  to  see  farther  than  thirty  or  forty  yards  in  any 
direction.  The  woods,  too,  present  so  little  variety,  that 
every  tree  seems  the  mere  counteipart  of  every  other ; 
and  the  grass,  when  it  has  not  been  burnt,  is  so  tall,  that 
a  man  of  ordinary  stature  cannot  see  over  it ;  whence  it 
is  necessary  for  him  to  proceed  with  great  caution,  lest  he 
should  unwittingly  deviate  from  the  ill-defined  trail  which 
he  follows.  To  increase  the  difficulty,  several  trails  often 
meet,  in  which  case — unless  the  explorer  be  perfectly  ac- 
quainted with  the  neighborhood — it  would  be  well  for  him 
to  lie  down  and  wait  until  the  fog  should  disperse.  The 
live  oaker  had  been  jogging  onwards  for  several  hours,  and 
became  aware  that  he  must  have  travelled  considerably 
more  than  the  distance  between  his  cabin  and  the  *  hum- 
mock '  which  he  desired  to  reach.  To  his  alarm,  at  the 
moment  when  the  fog  die^persed,  he  saw  that  the  sun  was 
at  its  meridian  height,  and  he  could  not  recognize  a  single 
object  around  him.     Young,  healthy,  and  active,  he  im 


Florida  Episode, 


223 


agined  that  he  had  walked  with  more  than  usual  speed, 
and  had  passed  the  place  to  which  he  was  bound.  He 
accordingly  turned  his  back  upon  the  sun,  and  pursued  a 
different  route,  guided  by  a  small  trail.  Time  passed,  and 
the  sun  headed  his  course  ;  he  saw  it  gradually  descend 
in  the  west,  but  all  around  him  continued  as  if  enveloped 
with  mystery.  The  huge  gray  trees  spread  their  giant 
boughs  over  him,  tlie  rank  grass  extended  on  all  sides, 
not  a  living  being  crossed  his  path ;  all  was  silent  and 
still,  and  the  scene  was  like  a  dull  and  dreary  dream  of 
the  land  of  oblivion.  He  wandered  like  a  forgotten  ghost 
that  had  passed  into  the  land  of  spirits,  without  yet  meet- 
ing one  of  his  kind  with  whom  to  hoid  converse. 

"  The  condition  of  a  man  lost  in  the  woods  is  one  of 
the  most  perplexing  that  could  be  imagined  by  a  person 
who  has  not  himself  been  in  a  like  prcilicnment.  Every 
object  he  sees  he  at  first  thinks  he  recognizes  ;  and  while 
his  whole  mind  is  bent  on  searching  for  more  that  may 
gradually  lead  to  his  extrication,  he  goes  on  committing 
greater  errors  the  farther  he  proceeds.  This  was  the  case 
with  the  live  oaker.  The  sun  v  as  now  setting  with  a  fiery 
aspect,  and  by  degrees  it  sunk  in  its  full  circular  form,  as 
if  giving  warning  of  a  sultry  to-morrow.  Myriads  of  in- 
sects, delighted  at  its  departure,  now  filled  the  air  on  buzz- 
ing wings.  Each  piping  frog  arose  from  the  muddy  pool 
in  which  it  had  concealed  itself,  the  squirrel  retired  to  its 
hole,  the  crow  to  its  roost,  and,  far  above,  the  harsh  croak- 
ing voice  of  the  heron  announced  that,  full  of  anxiety,  it 
was  wending  its  way  to  the  miry  interior  of  some  distant 
swamp.  Now  the  woods  began  to  resourd  to  the  shrill 
cries  of  the  owl  and  the  breeze,  as  it  swept  among  the 
columnar  stems  of  the  forest  trees,  laden  with  heavy  and 
chilling  dew.  Alas !  no  moon,  with  her  silvery  light, 
shone  on  the  dreary  scene,  and  the  losi  oni\  wearied  and 
vexed,  laid  himself  down  on  the  damp  ground.      Prayei 


)  \ 


I  It  'i  J 

I   ■  •! 
U!  I' 


m 

m 


'« 


I 


')  1 


m 


224 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


is  alwajs  consolatory  toman  in  every  difficulty  or  dangei, 
and  the  woodsman  fervently  prayed  to  his  Maker,  wished 
his  family  a  happier  night  than  it  was  his  lot  to  experi- 
ence, and  with  a  feverish  anxiety  waited  the  return  of  day. 
You  may  imagine  the  length  of  that  cold,  dull,  moonless 
night.  With  the  dawn  of  day  came  the  usual  fogs  of  those 
latitudes.  The  poor  man  started  on  his  feet,  and  with  a 
sorrowful  heart  pursued  a  course  which  he  thought  might 
lead  him  to  some  familiar  object,  although,  indeed,  he 
scarcely  knew  what  he  was  doing.  No  longer  had  he  the 
trace  of  a  track  to  guide  him,  and  yet,  as  the  sun  rose,  he 
calculated  the  many  hours  of  daylight  he  had  before  him, 
and  the  farther  he  went,  continued  to  walk  the  faster. 
But  vain  were  all  his  hopes  :  that  day  was  spen^  '1  fruit- 
less endeavors  to  regain  the  path  that  led  to  his  home, 
and  when  night  again  approached,  the  terror  that  had 
been  gradually  spreading  over  his  mind — together  with 
the  nervous  debility  induced  by  fatigue,  anxiety,  and  hun- 
ger— rendered  him  almost  frantic.  He  told  me  that  at 
this  moment  he  beat  his  breast,  tore  his  hair,  and,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  piety  with  which  his  parents  had  in  early 
life  imbued  his  mind,  and  which  had  become  habitual, 
would  have  cursed  his  existence. 

"  Famished  as  he  now  was,  he  laid  himself  on  the 
ground,  and  fed  on  the  weeds  and  grass  that  grew  arr  rad 
him.  That  night  was  spent  in  the  greatest  agony  and 
terror.  *  I  knew  my  situation,'  he  said  to  me.  *  I  was 
full)  aware  that,  unless  Almighty  God  came  to  my  assist- 
ance, I  must  perish  in  those  uninhabited  woods.  I  knew 
that  I  had  walked  more  than  fifty  miles,  although  I  had 
not  met  with  a  brook  from  which  I  could  quench  my 
thirst,  or  even  allay  the  burning  heat  of  my  parched  lips 
and  bloodshot  eyes. 

"  *  I  knew  that  if  I  could  not  meet  with  some  stream  X 
must  die,  for  my  axe  was  my  only  weapon  ;   and  although 


A  'Tortoise, 


225 


deer  and  bears  now  and  then  started  within  a  few  yards 
or  even  feet  of  me,  not  one  of  them  could  I  kill  ;  and  al- 
though I  was  in  the  midst  of  abundance,  not  a  mouthfiA 
did  I  expect  to  procure,  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  my 
empty  stomach.  Sir,  may  God  preserve  you  from  ever 
feeling  as  I  did  the  whole  of  that  day ! '  For  several  days 
after  no  one  can  imagine  the  condition  in  which  he  was, 
for  when  he  related  to  me  this  painful  adventure^  he  as- 
sured me  he  had  lost  all  recollection  of  what  had  hap- 
pened. *  God,'  he  continued,  '  must  have  taken  pity  on 
me,  one  day,  for  as  I  ran  wildly  through  those  drear'ful 
pine  barrens  I  met  with  a  tortoise.  I  gazed  upon  it  with 
delight  and  amazement,  and  although  I  knew  that,  were  I 
to  follow  it  undisturbed,  it  would  lead  me  to  some  water, 
my  hunger  and  thirst  would  not  allow  me  to  refrain  from 
satisfying  both  by  eating  its  flesh  and  drinking  its  blood. 
With  one  stroke  of  my  axe  the  beast  was  cut  in  two  ;  in  a 
few  moments  I  despatched  all  but  the  shell.  Oh,  sir, 
how  much  I  thanked  God,  whose  kindness  had  put  the 
tortoise  in  my  way  !  I  felt  greatly  renewed.  I  sat  down 
at  the  foot  of  a  pine,  g-azed  on  the  heavens,  thought  of  my 
poor  wife  and  children,  and  again  and  again  thanked  my 
God  for  my  life,  for  now  I  felt  less  distracted  in  mind,  and 
more  assured  that  before  long  I  must  recover  my  way, 
and  get  bock  to  my  home.'  The  lost  one  remained  and 
passed  the  night  at  the  foot  of  the  same  tree  under  which 
his  repast  had  been  made.  Refreshed  by  a  sound  sleep, 
he  started  at  dawn  to  resume  his  weary  march.  The  sun 
rose  bright,  and  he  followed  the  direction  of  his  shadows. 
Still  the  dreariness  of  the  woods  was  the  same,  and  he 
was  on  the  point  of  giving  up  in  despair,  when  he  observed 
a  raccoon  lying  squatted  in  the  grass.  Raising  his  axe, 
he  drove  it  with  such  violence  through  the  helpless  ani- 
mal, that  it  expired  without  a  struggle.  AVhat  he  had 
done  with  the  turtle  he  now  did  with  the  raccoon,  the 
10* 


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226 


Life  of  A^duhon, 


i.      \   .11 


greater  part  of  which  he  actually  devoured  at  one  meal. 
V/ith  more  comfortable  feelings  he  then  resumed  his  wan* 
derings, — his  journey  I  cannot  say, — for  aHhough  in  the 
possession  of  all  his  faculties,  and  in  broad  daylight,  he 
was  worse  off  than  a  lame  man  groping  his  way  in  the 
dark  out  of  a  dungeon,  of  which  he  knew  not  where  the 
door  stood.  Days  one  after  another  passed — nay,  weeks 
in  succession.  He  fed  now  on  cabbage  trees,  then  on 
frogs  and  snakes.  All  that  fell  in  his  way  was  welcome 
and  savory.  Yet  he  became  daily  more  emaciated,  and 
at  length  he  could  scarcely  craw  1  ;  forty  days  had  elapsed, 
by  his  own  reckoning,  when  he  at  last  reached  the  banks 
of  the  river.  His  clothes  in  tatters,  his  once  bright  axe 
dimmed  with  rust,  his  face  begrimed  with  beard,  his  hair 
matted,  and  his  feeble  frame  little  better  than  a  skeleton 
covered  with  parchment,  there  he  laid  himself  down  to 
die.  Amid  the  perturbed  dreams  of  his  fevered  fancy,  he 
thought  he  heard  the  noise  of  oars  far  away  on  the  silent 
river.  He  listened,  but  the  sounds  died  away  on  his 
ear.  It  was  indeed  a  dream,  the  last  glimmer  of  expir- 
ing hope,  and  now  the  light  of  life  was  about  to  be 
quenched  for  ever.  But  again  the  sound  of  oars  awoke 
him  from  his  lethargy.  He  listened  so  eagerly  that  the 
hum  of  a  fly  could  not  have  escaped  his  ear.  They  were 
indeed  the  measured  beats  of  oars  ;  and  now,  joy  to  the 
forlorn  soul !  the  sound  of  human  voices  thrilled  to  his 
heart,  and  awoke  the  tumultuous  pulses  of  re  turning  hope. 
On  his  knees  did  the  eye  of  God  see  that  poor  man,  by 
the  broad,  still  stream,  that  glittered  in  the  sunbeams,  and 
human  eyes  soon  saw  him  too,  for  round  that  headland 
covered  with  tangled  brushwood  boldly  advances  the  lit- 
tle boat,  propelled  by  its  lusty  rowers.  The  lost  one 
raises  his  feeble  voice  on  high  ;  it  was  a  loud  shrill  scream 
of  joy  and  fear.  The  rowers  pause,  and  look  around. 
Another,  but  feebler  scream,  and  they  observe  him.      W 


"^ 


Saved, 


227 


comes — ^his  heart  flutters,  his  sight  is  dimmed,  his  brain 
reels,  he  gasps  for  breath  !  It  comes — it  has  run  upon 
the  beach,  and  the  lost  one  is  found. 

"  This  is  no  tale  of  fiction,  but  the  relation  of  an  act- 
ual occurrence,  which  might  be  embellished,  no  doubt,  but 
which  is  better  in  the  plain  garb  of  truth.  The  notes  by 
which  I  recorded  it  were  written  in  the  cabin  of  the  once 
lost  *  live  oaker,'  about  four  years  after  the  painful  inci- 
dent occurred.  His  amiable  wife  and  loving  children 
were  present  at  the  recital,  and  never  shall  I  forget  the 
tears  that  flowed  from  them  as  they  listened  to  it,  albeit  it 
had  long  been  more  familiar  to  them  than  a  tale  thrice 
told.  It  only  remains  for  me  to  say  that  the  distance  be- 
tween the  cabin  and  the  live  oak  hummock  to  which  the 
woodsman  was  bound  scarcely  exceeded  eight  miles, 
while  the  part  of  the  river  at  which  he  was  found  was 
thirty-eighlmiiles  from  his  house.  Calculating  his  daily 
wanderings  at  ten  miles,  we  may  believe  that  they 
amcmted  in  all  to  four  hundred.  He  must  therefore 
have  rambled  in  a  circuitous  direction,  which  people  gen- 
erally do  in  such  circumstances.  Nothing  but  the  great 
strength  of  his  constitution  and  the  merciful  aid  of  his 
Maker  could  have  supported  him  for  so  long  a  time." 


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CHAPTER  XVII, 

Third  Florida  Episode:  Spring  Garden* 

\AVING  heard  many  wonderful  accounts  of  a 
certain  spring  near  the  sources  of  the  St.  John's 
River,  in  East  Florida,  I  resolved  to  visit  it,  in 
order  to  judge  for  myself.  On  the  6th  of  January,  1832, 
I  left  the  plantation  of  my  friend  John  Bulow,  accompa- 
nied by  an  amiable  and  accomplished  Scotch  gentleman, 
an  engineer  employed  by  the  planters  of  those  districts 
in  erecting  their  sugar-house  establishments.  We  were 
mounted  on  horses  of  the  Indian  breed,  remarkable  for 
their  activity  and  strength,  and  were  provided  -with  guns 
and  some  provision.  The  weather  was  pleasant,  but  not 
so  our  way,  for  no  sooner  had  we  left  the  *  King's  Road,' 
which  had  been  cut  by  the  Spanish  government  for  a 
good'"  distance,  than  we  entered  a  thicket  of  scrubby 
oaks,  succeeded  by  a  still  denser  mass  of  low  palmettoes, 
which  extended  about  three  miles,  and  among  the  roots 
of  which  our  nags  had  great  difficulty  in  making  good 
their  footing. 

"  After  this  we  entered  the  pine  barrens,  so  extensive- 
.y  distributed  in  this  portion  of  Florida.  The  sand  seemed 
to  be  all  sand,  and  nothing  but  sand,  and  the  palmettoes 
at  times  so  covered  the  narrow  Indian  trail  which  we  fol- 
lowed, that  it  required  all  the  instinct  or  sagacity  of  our- 
sel»  es  and  our  horses  to  keep  it.  It  seemed  to  us  as  if 
we  were  approaching  the  end  of  the  world.  The  coun- 
try was  perfectly  fiat,  and,  so  far  as'  we  could  survey  it, 
presented  the  same  wild  and  scraggy  aspect.  My  com- 
panion, who  had  travelled  there  before,  assured  me  that 


Haw  Creek. 


229 


at  particular  seasons  of  the  year  he  had  crossed  the  bar 
rens  v/hen  they  were  covered  with  water  fully  knee-deep, 
(vhen,  according  to  his  expression,  they  *  looked  most 
awfiil ; '  and  I  readily  believed  him,  as  we  now  and  then 
passed  through  muddy  pool?  which  reached  the  saddle- 
girths  of  our  horses.  Here  and  there  large  tracts  covered 
with  tall  grasses,  and  resembling  the  prairies  of  the  west- 
em  wilds,  opened  to  our  view.  Wherever  the  country 
happened  to  be  sunk  a  little  beneath  the  general  level,  it 
was  covered  with  cypress-trees,  whose  spreading  arms 
were  hung  with  a  profusion  of  Spanish  moss.  The  soil 
in  such  cases  consisted  of  black  mud,  and  was  densely 
covered  with  bushes,  chiefly  of  the  magnolia  family.  We 
crossed  in  succession  the  heads  of  three  branches  of  Haw 
Creek,  of  which  the  waters  spread  from  a  quarter  to 
half  a  mile  in  breadth,  and  through  which  we  made  our 
way  with  extreme  difficulty.  While  in  the  middle  of  one, 
my  companion  told  me  that  once,  when  in  the  very  spot 
where  he  then  stood,  his  horse  chanced  to  place  his  fore- 
feet on  the  back  of  a  large  alligator,  which,  not  well  pleas- 
ed at  being  disturbed  in  his  repose,  suddenly  raised  his 
head,  opened  his  monstrous  jaws,  and  snapped  off  a  part 
of  the  lip  of  his  affrighted  pony.  You  may  imagine  the 
tenor  of  the  poor  beast,  which,  however,  after  a  few  plun- 
ges, resumed  its  course,  and  succeeded  in  carrying  its 
rider  through  in  safety.  As  a  reward  for  this  achievement 
it  was  ever  after  honored  with  the  appellation  of  *  Alliga- 
tor.' 

"  We  had  now  travelled  about  twenty  miles,  and  the 
sun  having  reached  the  zenith,  we  dismounted  to  partake 
of  some  refreshment.  From  a  muddy  pool  we  contrived 
to  obtain  enough  of  tolerably  clear  water  to  mix  with  the 
contents  of  a  bottle,  the  like  of  which  I  would  strongly 
recommend  to  every  traveller  in  these  swampy  regions. 
Oui  horses,  too,  found  something  to  grind  among  the  herb 


v\ 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


age  that  surrounded  the  little  pool ;  but  as  little  time 
was  to  be  lost,  we  quickly  remounted  and  resumed  oui 
disagreeable  journey,  during  which  we  had  at  no  time 
proceeded  at  a  rate  exceeding  two  miles  and  a  half  in  the 
hour.  All  at  once,  however,  a  wonderful  change  took 
place  j  the  country  became  more  elevated  and  undulating, 
the  timber  was  of  a  different  nature,  and  consisted  of  red 
and  Uve  oaks,  magnolias,  and  several  kinds  of  pine 
Thousands  of  *  mole-hills,'  or  the  habitations  of  an  an- 
imal here  called  the  *  sal  amander,*  and  Gopher's  burrow s^ 
presented  themselves  to  the  eye,  and  greatly  annoyed  our 
horses,  which  every  now  and  then  sank  to  the  depth  of  a 
foot  and  stumbled,  at  the  risk  of  breaking  their  legs,  and 
what  we  considered  fully  as  valuable — our  necks.  We 
now  saw  beautiful  lakes  of  the  purest  water,  and  passed 
along  a  green  space  having  a  series  of  them  on  each  side 
of  us.  These  sheets  of  water  became  larger  and  more 
numerous  the  farther  we  advanced,  some  of  them  extend- 
ing to  a  length  of  several  miles,  and  having  a  depth  of 
from  two  to  twenty  feet  of  clear  water ;  but  their  shores 
being  destitute  of  vegetation  we  observed  no  birds  near 
them.  Many  tortoises,  however,  were  seen  basking  in 
the  sun,  and  all  as  we  approached  plunged  into  the  v/ater. 
Not  a  trace  of  man  did  we  see  during  our  journey,  scarce- 
ly a  bird,  and  not  a  single  quadruped,  not  even  a  rat  \ 
nor  can  one  imagine  a  poorer  and  mpre  desolate  country 
than  that  which  lies  between  the  Halifax  Rfver,  which  we 
had  left  in  the  morning,  and  the  undulated  grounds  at 
which  we  had  now  arrived. 

"  But  at  length  we  perceived  the  tracks  of  living  be- 
ings, and  soon  after  saw  the  huts  of  Colonel  Rees'  negroes. 
Scarcely  could  ever  African  traveller  have  approached 
the  city  of  Timbuctoo  with  more  excited  curiosity  than 
we  felt  in  approaching  this  plantation.  Our  Indian  hors- 
es seemed  to  participate  in  our  joy,  and  trotted  at  a 


A  Sulphur- Spring, 


231 


smart  rate  towards  the  principal  building,  at  the  door  ol 
which  we  leaped  from  our  saddles,  just  as  the  sun  was 
withdrawing  his  ruddy  light.  Colonel  Rees  was  at  home, 
and  received  us  with  great  kindness.  Refreshments  were 
immediately  placed  before  us,  and  we  spent  the  evening 
in  agreeable  conversation. 

"  The  next  day  I  walked  over  the  plantation,  examin- 
ing the  country  around,  and  found  the  soil  of  good  qual- 
ity, it  having  been  reclaimed  from  swampy  ground,  of  a 
black  color,  rich,  and  very  productive.  The  greater  part 
of  the  cultivated  land  was  on  the  borders  of  a  lake  which 
communicated  with  others  leading  to  St.  John's  River, 
distant  about  seven  miles,  and  navigable  so  far  by  vessels 
not  exceeding  fifty  or  sixty  tons.  After  breakfast  our 
amiable  host  showed  us  the  way  to  the  celebrated  spring, 
the  sight  of  which  afforded  me  pleasure  sufficient  to  coun- 
terbalance the  tediousness  of  my  journey. 

"  This  spring  presents  a  circular  basin,  having  a  diam- 
eter of  about  sixty  feet,  from  the  centre  of  which  the 
water  is  thrown  up  with  great  force,  altho  gh  it  does  not 
rise  to  a  height  of  more  than  a  few  inches  above  the  gen- 
eral level.  A  kind  of  whirlpool  is  formed,  on  the  edges 
of  which  are  deposited  vast  quantities  of  shells,  with  pie- 
ces of  wood,  gravel,  and  other  substances,  which  have 
coalesced  into  solid  masses,  having  a  very  curious  ap- 
pearance. The  water  is  quite  transparent,  although  of  a 
dark  color,  but  so  impregnated  with  sulphur,  that  it  emits 
an  odor  which  to  me  was  very  disagreeable,  and  highly 
nauseous.  Its  surface  lies  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  below  the 
level  of  the  woodland  lakes  in  the  neighborhood,  and  its 
depth  in  the  autumnal  months  is  about  seventeen  feet 
when  the  water  is  lowest.  In  all  the  lakes  the  same  spe- 
cies of  shells  as  are  thrown  up  by  the  spring  occur  in 
abundance ;  and  it  seems  more  than  probable  that  it  is 
formed  of  the  water  collected  from  them  by  infiltration, 


■::^ 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


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or  forms  the  subterranean  outlet  of  some  of  them.     The 
Lakes  themselves  are  merely  reservoirs  containing  the 
residue  of  the  waters  which  fall  during  the  rainy  seasons, 
and  contributing  to  supply  the  waters  of  the  St.  John's 
River,  with  which  they  communicate  by  similar  means. 
This  spring  pours  its  waters  into  *  Rees'  Lake,'  through  a 
deep  and  broad  channel  called  Spring  Garden  Creek. 
This  channel  is  said  to  be  in  some  places  fully  sixty  feet 
deep,  but  it  becomes  more  shallow  as  you  advance  to- 
wards the  entrance  of  the  lake,  at  which  you  are  surprised 
to  find  yourself  on  a  mud  flat  covered  only  by  about  fif- 
teen inches  of  water,  under  which  the  depositions  from 
the  spring  lie  to  a  depth  of  four  or  five  feet  in  the  form 
of  the  softest  mud,  while  under  this  again  is  a  bed  of  fine 
white  sand.     When  this  mud  is  stirred  up  by  the  oars  of 
your  boat  or  otherwise,  it  appears  of  a  dark-green  color, 
and  smells  strongly  of  sulphur.     At  all  times  it  sends  up 
numerous  bubbles  of  air,  which  probably  comes  of  sul- 
phuretted hydrogen  gas.     The  mouth  of   this  curious 
spring  is  calculated  to  be  two  and  a  half  feet  square,  and 
the  velocity  of  its  waters  during  the  rainy  season  is  three 
feet  per  second.     This  would  render  the  discharge  per 
hour  about  499-500  gallons. 

•'Colonel  Rees  showed  us  the  remains  of  another 
spring  of  the  same  kind,  which  had  dried  up  from  some 
natural  cause. 

"  My  companion  the  engineer  having  occupation  for 
another  day,  I  requested  Colonel  Rees  to  accompany  me 
in  his  boat  towards  the  river  St.  John,  which  I  was 
desirous  of  seeing,  as  well  as  the  curious  country  in  its 
neighborhood.  He  readily  agreed,  and  after  an  early 
breakfast  next  morning,  we  set  out,  accompanied  by  two 
servants  to  manage  the  boat.  As  we  crossed  *  Rees'  Lake 
I  observed  that  its  north-eastern  shores  were  bounded  by 
a  deep  swamp,  covered  by  a  rich  growth  of  tall  cypresses, 


Woodruff*  s  Lake, 


^^2^ 


while  the  opposite  side  presented  large  marshes  and  isl- 
ands ornamented  by  pines,  live  oaks,  and  orange-trees. 

"  With  the  exception  of  a  very  narrow  channel,  the 
creek  was  covered  with  nympheie,  and  in  its  waters  swam 
numerous  alligators,  while  ibises,  gallinules,  anhingas, 
coots,  and  cormorants  were  pursuing  their  avocations  on 
its  surface  or  along  its  margins.  Over  our  heads  the  fish- 
hawks  were  sailing,  and  on  the  broken  trees  around  we 
saw  many  of  their  nests.  We  followed  Spring  Garden 
Creek  for  about  two  miles  and  a  half,  and  passed  a 
murl-bar  before  we  entered  *  Dexter's  Lake.  The  bar 
was  stuck  full  of  unios  in  such  profusion,  that  each 
time  the  negroes  thrust  their  hands  into  the  mud  they 
took  up  several.  According  to  their  report  these  shell- 
fish are  quite  unfit  for  food.  In  this  lake  the  water  had 
changed  its  hue,  and  assumed  a  dark  chestnut  color, 
although  it  was  still  transparent.  The  depth  was  uniform- 
ly five  feet,  and  the  extent  of  the  lake  was  about  eight 
miles  by  three.  Having  crossed  it,  we  followed  the  creek 
and  soon  saw  the  entrance  of  '  Woodruffs  Lake, '  which 
empties  its  still  darker  waters  into  the  St.  John's  River. 
I  here  shot  a  pair  of  curious  ibises,  which  you  will  find 
described  in  my  fourth  volume  of  ornithology,  and  landed 
on  a  small  island  covered  with  wild  orangc-trecs,  the  lux- 
uriance and  freshness  of  which  were  not  less  pleasing  to 
the  sight  than  the  perfume  of  their  flowers  was  to  the 
smell.  The  group  seemed  to  me  like  a  rich  bouquet 
formed  by  nature  to  afford  consolation  to  the  weary  trav- 
eller cast  down  by  the  dismal  scenery  of  swamps,  and 
pools,  and  rank  grass  around  him.  Under  the  shade  of 
these  beautifiil  evergreens,  and  amidst  the  golden  fruits 
that  covered  the  ground,  while  the  humming-birds  flut- 
tered over  our  heads,  we  spread  our  cloth  on  the  grass, 
and,  with  a  happy  and  thankful  heart,  I  refreshed  mysell 
with  the  bountiful  gifts  of  an  ever-caiefiil  Providence. 


( ' 


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234 


Life  of  Audubon, 


Colonel  Rees  informed  me  that  this  charming  retreat 
was  one  of  the  numerous  terra  incogniUe  of  this  region  ol 
lakes,  and  that  it  should  henceforth  bear  the  name  of 
*  Audubon's  Isle.' 

"  In  conclusion,  let  me  inform  you  tliat  the  spring  has 
now  been  turned  to  good  account  by  my  generous  host, 
Colonel  Rt°s,  who,  aided  by  my  amiable  companion  the 
engineer,  has  directed  its  current  so  as  to  turn  a  mill 
which  suffices  to  grind  the  whole  of  his  sugar-cane." 


! 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Fifth  Florida  Episode :  Deer  Hunting. 

HE  different  modes  of  destroying  deer  are  proba 
bly  too  well  understood  and  too  successful!) 
practised  in  the  United  States  j  for  notwith* 
standing  the  almost  incredible  abundance  of  these  beau- 
tiful animals  in  our  forests  and  prairies,  such  havoc  is 
carried  on  amongst  them,  that  in  a  few  centuries  they 
will  probably  be  as  sc|irce  in  America  as  the  great  bus- 
tard now  is  in  Britain. 

"  We  have  three  modes  of  hunting  deer,  each  varying 
in  some  slight  degree  in  the  different  states  and  districts. 
The  first  is  termed  *  still  hunting,'  and  is  by  far  the  most 
destructive.  The  second  is  called  'fire-light  hunting,' 
and  is  next  in  its  exterminating  effects.  The  third,  which 
may  be  looked  upon  as  a  mere  amusement,  is  named 
'driving.'  Although  many  deer  are  destroyed  by  this 
latter  method,  it  is  not  by  any  means  so  pernicious  as 
the  others.     These  methods  I  shall  describe  separately. 

"  *  Still  hunting '  is  followed  as  a  kind  of  trade  by 
most  of  our  frontier  men.  To  be  practised  with  success, 
it  requires  great  activity,  an  expert  management  of  the 
rifle,  and  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  forest,  together 
with  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  habits  of  the 
deer,  not  only  at  different  seasons  of  the  year,  but  also 
at  every  hour  of  the  day,  as  the  hunter  must  Vi  -iware 
of  the  situations  which  the  game  prefers,  and  in  wh'  h  it 
is  most  likely  to  be  found  at  any  particular  time.  I 
might  here  present  you  with  a  full  account  of  the  habits 


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236 


Life  of  Audubon, 


of  our  deer,  were  it  not  my  intention  to  lay  before  you 
at  some  future  period,  'n  the  form  of  a  distinct  work,  the 
observations  which  I  have  made  on  the  various  quadru- 
peds of  our  extensive  territories. 

"  We  shall  suppose  that  we  are  now  about  to  follow 
the  true  hunter^  as  the  still  hunter  is  also  called,  through 
the  interior  of  the  tangled  woods,  across  morasses,  ra- 
vines, and  such  places,  where  the  game  may  prove  more 
or  less  plentiful,  even  should  none  be  found  there  in  the 
first  instance.  We  shall  allow  our  hunter  all  the  agility, 
patience,  and  care  which  his  occupation  requires,  and 
will  march  in  his  rear,  as  if  we  were  spies  watching  all 
his  motions.  His  dress,  you  observe,  consists  of  a  leath- 
ern hunling-shirt,  and  a  pair  of  trousers  of  the  same  ma- 
terial. His  feet  are  well  moccai^ined  \  he  wears  a  belt 
round  his  waist ;  his  heavy  rifle  is  resting  on  his  brawny 
shoulder ;  on  one  side  hangs  his  ball-pouch,  surmounted 
by  the  horn  of  an  ancient  buffalo,  once  the  terror  of  the 
herd,  but  now  containing  a  pound  of  the  best  gunpowder. 
His  butcher-knife  is  scabbarded  in  the  same  strap ;  and 
behind  is  a  tomahawk,  the  handle  of  which  has  been 
thrust  tiirough  his  girdle.  He  walks  with  so  rapid  a  step 
that  probably  few  men  besides  ourselves,  that  is,  myself 
and  my  kind  reader,  could  follow  him,  unless  for  a  short 
distance,  in  their  anxiety  to  witness  his  ruthless  deeds. 
He  stops,  looks  at  the  flint  of  his  gun,  its  priming,  and 
the  leather  cover  of  the  lock,  then  glances  his  eye  to- 
wards the  sky,  to  judge  of  the  course  most  likely  to  lead 
him  to  the  game. 

"  The  heavens  are  clear,  the  red  glare  of  the  sun 
gleams  through  the  lower  branches  of  the  lofty  trees, 
the  dew  hangs  in  pearly  drops  at  the  top  of  every  leal 
Already  has  the  emerald  hue  of  the  foliage  been  convert- 
ed into  the  more  glowing  tints  of  our  autumnal  months. 
A  slight  frost  appears  on  the  fence  rails  of  his  little 
corn-field. 


Deer-Hunting. 


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in 


"  As  he  proceeds  he  looks  to  the  dead  foliage  undei 
his  feet,  in  search  of  the  well-known  traces  of  a  buck's 
hoof.     Now  he  bends  toward  the  ground,  on  which  some- 
thing has   attracted  his    attention.     See,  he  alters  hia 
course,  increases  his  speed,  and  will  soon  reach  the  op- 
posite hill.     Now  he  moves  v;ith  caution,  stops  at  almost 
every  tree,  and  peeps  forward,  as  if  already  within  shoot- 
ing distance  of  his  game.     He  advances  again  ;  but  now 
very  slo^vly.     He  has  reached  the  declivity,  upon  which 
the  sun  shin3s  in  all  its  glowing  splendor ;  but  mark  him, 
he  takes  the  gun  from  his  shoulder,  has  already  thrown 
aside  the  leather  covering  of  the  lock,  and  is  wiping  the 
edge  of  his  flint  with  his  tongue.     Now  \\q  stands  like  a 
monumental  figure,  perhaps  measuring  tii:^  distance  that 
lies  between  him  and  the  game  which  ho  has  in  view. 
His  rifle  is  slowly  raised,  the  report  follows,  and  he  runs. 
Let  us  run  also.     Shall  I  speak  to  him,  and  ask  him  the 
result  of  his  first  essay  ?    *  Pray,  friend,   what  have  you 
killed  ? '  for  to  say,  *  What  have  you  shot  at  ?  *  might  im- 
ply the  possibility  of  his  having  missed,   and  so  might 
hurt  his  feelings.     *  Nothing  but  a  buck.'     *  And  where 
is  it  ? '     '  Oh,  it  has  taken  a  jump  or  so,  but  I  settled  it, 
and  will  soon  be  with  it.     My  ball  struck,  and  must  have 
gone  through  his  heart*    We  arrived  at  the  spot  where 
the  animal  had  laid  itself  down  on  the  grass,  in  a  thicket 
of  grape-vines,  sumachs,  and  spruce-bushes,  where  it  in- 
tended to  repose  during  the  middle  of  the  day.    The 
place  is  covered  with  blood,  the  hoofs  of  the  deer  have 
left  deep  prints  in  the  ground,  as  it  bounded  in  the  ago- 
nies produced  by  its  wound ;    but   the   blood  that  has 
gushed  from  its  side  discloses  the  course  which  it  has 
taken.     We  soon  reac  h  the  spot.     There  lies  the  buck, 
its  tongue  out,  its  eye  dim,  its  breath  exhausted ;  it  is 
dead.    The  hunter  draws  his  knife,  cuts  the  buck's  throat 
almost  asunder,  and  prepares  to  skin  it     For  this  pur 


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Life  of  Audubon. 


\ 


pose  he  hangs  it  upon  the  branch  of  a  tree.  When  the 
ski.i  is  removed,  he  cuts  off  the  hams,  and  abandoning 
the  rest  of  the  carcass  to  the  wolves  and  vultures,  re- 
loads his  gun,  flings  the  venison,  enclosed  by  the  skhi, 
upon  his  back,  secures  it  with  a  strap,  and  walks  off  in 
search  of  more  game,  well  knowing  that  in  the  immedi- 
ate neighborhood  another  at  least  is  to  be  found. 

"  Had  the  weather  been  warmer,  the  hunter  would 
have  sought  for  the  buck  along  the  shadowy  side  of  the 
hills.  Had  it  been  the  spring  season,  he  would  have  led 
us  through  some  thick  canebrake,  to  the  margin  of  some 
remote  lake,  where  you  would  have  seen  the  deer 
immersed  to  his  head  in  the  water,  to  save  his  body  from 
the  tormenting  mosquitoes.  Had  winter  overspread  the 
earth  with  a  covering  of  snow,  he  would  have  searched 
the  low,  damp  woods,  where  the  mosses  and  lichens,  on 
which  at  that  period  the  deer  feeds,  abound,  the  trees  be- 
ing generally  crusted  with  them  for  several  feet  from  the 
ground.  At  one  time  he  might  have  marked  the  places 
where  the  deer  clears  the  velvet  from  his  horns  by  rub- 
bing them  against  the  low  stems  of  bushes,  and  where  he 
frequently  scrapes  the  earth  with  his  fore-hoofs  j  at 
another  he  would  have  betaken  himself  to  places  where 
persimmon  and  crab-apples  abound,  as  beneath  these  trees 
the  deer  frequently  stops  to  munch  their  fruits.  During 
early  spring  our  hunter  would  imitate  the  bleating  of  the 
doe,  and  thus  frequently  obtain  both  her  and  the  fawn  \ 
or,  like  some  tribes  of  Indians,  he  would  prepare  a  deer's 
head,  placed  on  a  stick,  and  creeping  with  it  amongst  the 
tall  grass  of  the  prairies,  would  decoy  the  deer  within 
reach  of  his  rifle.  But,  kind  reader,  you  have  seen 
enough  of  the  *  still  hunter.'  T.et  it  suffice  for  me  to  add 
that,  by  the  mode  pursued  by  him,  thousands  of  deer  are 
annually  killed,  many  individuals  shooting  these  animals 
merely  for  the  skins,  not  caring  for  even  the   most  valua- 


it'f 


"Deer-Hunting, 


239 


ble  portions  of  the  flesh,  unless  hunger  or  a  near  market 
induces  them  to  carry  off  the  hams. 

"  The  mode  of  destroying  deer  hy  fire-light ,  or,  as  it  is 
named  in  some  parts  of  the  country,  forest-light^  never 
fails  to  produce  a  very  singular  feeling  in  him  who  wit 
nesses  it  for  the  first  time.  There  ib  something  in  it  which 
at  times  appears  awfully  grand.  At  othei  times  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  fear  creeps  over  the  mind,  and  even  affects 
the  physical  powers  of  him  who  follows  the  hunter  through 
the  thick  undergrowth  of  our  woods,  having  to  leap  his 
horse  over  hundreds  of  huge  fallen  trunks,  at  one  time 
impeded  by  a  straggling  grape-vine  crossing  his  path,  at 
another  squeezed  between  two  stubborn  saplings,  whilst 
their  twigs  come  smack  in  his  face,  as  his  companion  has 
forced  his  way  through  them.  Again,  he  every  now  and 
then  runs  the  risk  of  breaking  his  neck  by  being  suddenly 
pitched  headlong  on  the  ground,  as  his  horse  sinks  into  a 
hole  covered  over  with  moss.  But  I  must  proceed  in  a 
more  regular  manner,  and  leave  you,  kind  reader,  to  judge 
whether  such  a  mode  of  hunting  would  suit  your  taste  or 
not. 

"  The  hunter  has  returned  to  his  camp  or  his  house, 
has  rested,  and  eaten  his  game.  He  has  procured  a 
quantity  of  pine-knots  filled  with  resinous  matter,  and  has 
an  old  frying-pan,  that,  for  aught  I  know  to  the  contrary, 
may  have  been  used  by  his  great-grandmother,  in  which 
the  pine-knots  are  to  be  placed  when  lighted.  The  horses 
stand  saddled  at  the  door.  The  hunter  comes  forth,  his 
rifle  slung  on  his  shoulder,  and  springs  upon  one  of 
them,  while  his  son  or  a  servant  mounts  the  other,  with 
the  frying-pan  and  the  pine-knots.  Thus  accoutred,  they 
proceed  towards  the  interior  of  the  forest.  When  they 
have  arrived  at  the  spot  where  the  hunt  is  to  begin,  they 
strike  fire  with  a  flint  and  steel,  and  kindle  the  resinous 
wood.     The  person  who  carries  the  fire  moves  in  the  di- 


tl 


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240 


Life  of  Audubon, 


rection  judged  to  be  the  best.  The  blaze  illuminates  the 
near  objects,  but  the  distnnt  parts  seem  involved  in  deep- 
est obscurity. 

"  The  hunter  who  bears  the  gun  keeps  immediately  in 
front,  and  after  a  while  discovers  before  him  two  feeble 
lights,  which  are  produced  by  the  reflection  of  the  pine 
fire  from  the  eyes  of  an  animal  of  the  deer  or  wolf  kind. 
The  animal  stands  quite  still.  To  one  unacquainted  with 
this  strange  mode  of  hunting,  the  glare  from  its  eyes  might 
bring  to  his  imagination  some  lost  hobgoblin  that  had 
strayed  from  its  usual  haunts.  The  hunter,  however,  no- 
wise intimidated,  approaches  the  object,  sometimes  so 
near  as  to  discern  its  form,  when,  raising  the  rifle  to  his 
shoulder,  he  fires  and  kills  it  on  the  spot.  He  then  dis- 
mounts, secures  the  skin  and  such  portions  of  the  flesh  as 
he  may  want,  in  the  manner  already  described,  and  con- 
tinues his  search  through  the  greater  part  of  the  night, 
sometimes  to  the  dawn  of  day,  shooting  from  five  to  ten 
deer,  should  these  animals  be  plentiful.  This  kind  of 
hunting  proves  fatal,  not  to  the  deer  aione,  but  also  some- 
times to  wolves,  and  now  and  then  to  a  horse  or  a  cow 
which  may  have  strayed  far  into  the  woods. 

"  Now,  kind  reader,  prepare  to  mount  a  generous,  full 
blood  Virginia  hunter ;  see  that  your  gun  is  in  complete 
order,  for  hark  to  the  sound  of  the  bugle  and  horn,  and 
the  mingled  clamor  of  a  pack  of  harriers.  Your  friends 
are  waiting  you  under  the  shade  of  the  wood,  and  we 
must  together  go  driving  the  light-footed  deer.  The  dis- 
tance over  which  one  has  to  travel  is  seldom  felt  when 
pleasure  is  anticipated  as  the  result,  so  galloping  we  go 
pell-mell  through  the  woods  to  some  well-known  place, 
where  many  a  fine  buck  has  drooped  its  antlers  under 
the  ball  of  the  hunter's  rifle.  The  servants,  who  are 
called  the  drivers,  have  already  begun  their  search,  their 
voices  are  heard  exciting  the  hounds,  and  unless  we  pul 


Deer-Hunting. 


241 


spurs  to  our  steeds,  we  may  be  too  late  at  our  stand,  and 
thus  lose  the  first  opportunity  of  shooting  the  fleeting 
game  as  it  passes  by.  Hark  again !  The  dogs  are  in 
chase,  the  horn  sounds  louder  and  more  clearly.  Hurry, 
hurr}  on  1  or  we  shall  be  sadly  behind.  Here  we  are  at 
last ;  dismount,  fasten  your  horse  to  this  tree,  place  your- 
self by  the  side  of  that  large  yellow  poplar,  and  mind  you 
do  not  shoot  me.  The  deer  is  fast  approaching  ;  I  will  to 
my  own  stand,  and  he  who  shoots  him  dead  wins  the  prize. 
The  deer  is  heard  coming  ;  it  has  inadvertently  cracked 
a  dead  stick  with  its  hoof,  and  the  dogs  are  now  so  near 
it  that  it  will  pass  in  a  moment.  There  it  comes  !  How 
beautifully  it  bounds  over  the  ground !  What  a  splendid 
head  of  horns  1  How  easy  the  attitudes,  depending,  as 
it  seems  to  do,  on  its  own  swiftness  for  safety !  All  is  in 
vain,  however  j  a  gun  is  fired,  the  animal  plunges,  and 
doubles  with  incomparable  speed.  There  he  goes  ;  he 
passes  another  stand,  from  which  a  second  shot,  better 
directed  than  the  first,  brings  him  to  the  ground.  The 
dogs,  the  servants,  the  sportsmen,  are  now  rushing  for- 
ward to  the  spot.  The  hunter  who  has  shot  it  is  congrat- 
ulated on  his  skill  or  good  luck,  and  the  chase  begins 
again  in  some  other  part  of  the  woods. 

"  A  few  lines  of  exp'  nation  may  be  required  to  con- 
vey a  clear  idea  of  this  mode  of  hunting.  Deer  are  fond 
of  following  and  retracing  the  paths  which  they  have 
formerly  used,  and  continue  to  do  so  even  after  they  have 
been  shot  at  more  than  once.  Their  tracks  are  discov- 
ered by  persons  on  horseback  in  the  woods,  or  a  deer  is 
observed  crossing  a  road,  a  field,  or  a  small  stream. 
When  this  hah-  been  noticed  twice,  the  deer  may  be  shot 
fi"om  the  places  called  stands  by  the  sportsman,  who  is 
stationed  there  and  waits  for  it,  aline  of  stands  being  gen- 
erally formed  so  as  to  cross  the  path  which  the  game  will 
follow.  The  person  who  ascertains  the  usual  pass  of 
11 


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Life  of  Audubon. 


the  game,  or  discovers  the  parts  where  the  animal  feeds 
or  lies  down  during  the  day,  gives  intimation  to  his 
friends,  who  then  prepare  for  the  chise.  The  servantr 
start  the  deer  with  the  hounds,  and,  by  good  management, 
generally  succeed  in  making  it  run  the  course  that  will 
sooneot  bring  it  to  its  death.  *  But  should  the  deer  be 
cautious,  and  take  another  course,  the  hunters  mounted  on 
swift  horses,  gallop  through  the  woods  to  intercept  it, 
guided  by  the  sound  of  the  horns  and  the  cry  of  the  dogs, 
and  frequently  succeed  in  shooting  it.  This  sport  is  ex- 
tremely agreeable,  and  proves  successful  on  almost  evei^ 


occasion. 


« 


CHAPTER  XIX, 

Sixth  Fhrida  Episode:  Sandy  Island. 

LEFT  you  abruptly,  perhaps  uncivilly ,  reader,  at 
the  dawn  of  day  on  Sandy  Island,  v/hich  lies 
just  six  miles  from  the  extreme  point  of  South 
Florida.  I  did  so  because  1  was  amazed  at  the  appear- 
ance of  things  around  me,  which,  in  fact,  looked  so 
different  then  irom  what  they  seemed  at  night,  that  it  took 
some  minutes'  reflection  to  account  for  the  change. 
When  we  laid  ourselves  down  on  the  s^nd  to  sleep,  the 
waters  almost  bathed  our  feet ;  when  we  opened  our  eyes 
in  the  morning,  they  were  at  an  immense  distance.  Our 
boat  lay  on  her  side,  looking  not  unlike  a  whale  reposing 
on  a  mud  bank  ;  the  birds  in  myriads  were  probing  their 
pasture-ground.  Ther::  great  flocks  of  ibises  fed  apart 
from  equally  large  colle  :tions  of '  godwits,'  and  thousands 
of  herons  gracefully  pa  xd  along,  ever  and  anon  thrusting 
their  javelin  bills  'Into  the  body  of  some  unfortunate  fish 
confined  in  a  small  pool  of  water.  Of  fish-crows  I  could 
not  estimate  the  number,  but  from  the  havoc  they  made 
among  the  crabs,  I  conjecture  that  these  animals  must 
have  been  scarce  by  the  time  of  next  ebb.  Frigate 
pelicans  chased  the  jager,  which  himself  had  just  robbed 
a  poor  gull  of  its  prize ;  and  all  the  gallinules  ran  with 
spread  wings  from  the  mud-banks  to  the  thickets  of  the 
island,  so  timorous  had  they  become  when  they  perceived 
us.  Surrounded  as  we  were  by  )  many  objects  that  al- 
lured us,  not  one  could  we  yet  attain,  so  dangerous  would 
it  have  been  to  venture  on  the  mud ;  and  our  pilot  hav 


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244 


Life  of  Audubon. 


ing  assured  us  that  nothing  could  be  lost  by  waiting, 
spoke  of  our  eating,  and  on  this  hint  told  that  he  would 
take  us  to  a  part  of  the  island  wh'jre  *  our  breakfast 
would  be  abundant,  although  uncooked.*  Off  we  went, 
some  of  the  sailors  carrying  baskets,  others  large  tin  pans 
and  wooden  vessels  such  as  they  use  for  eating  their 
meals  in.  Entering  a  thicket  of  about  an  acre  in  extent, 
we  found  on  every  bush  several  nests  of  the  ibis,  each 
containing  three  large  and  beautiful  eggs,  and  all  hands 
fell  to  gathering.  The  birds  gave  way  to  us,  and  ere  long 
we  had  a  heap  of  eggs,  that  promised  delicious  food. 
Nor  did  we  stand  long  in  expectation ;  for,  kindling  a 
fire,  we  soon  prepared,  in  one  way  or  other,  enough  to  sat- 
isfy the  cravings  of  our  hungry  maws.  Breakfast  ended, 
the  pilot,  looking  at  the  gorgeous  sunrise,  said,  *  Gentle- 
men, prepare  yourselves  for  fun ;  the  tide  is  a-coming.' 
Over  these  mud-flats  a  foot  or  two  of  water  is  quite  suffi- 
cient to  drive  all  the  birds  ashore,  even  the  tallest  heron 
or  flamingo ;  and  the  tide  seems  to  flow  at  once  over  the 
whole  expanse.  Each  of  us,  provided  with  a  gun,  posted 
himself  behind  a  bush,  and  no  sooner  had  the  water 
forced  the  winged  creatures  to  approach  the  shore,  than 
the  work  of  destruction  commenced.  When  it  at  length 
ceased,  the  collected  mass  of  birds  of  different  kinds 
looked  not  unlike  a  small  haycock.  Who  could  not  with 
a  little  industry  have  helped  himself  to  a  few  of  their 
skins  ?  Why,  reader,  surely  no  one  is  as  fond  of  these 
\hings  as  I  am.  Every  one  assisted  in  this,  and  even  the 
sailors  themselves  tried  their  hand  at  the  work.  Our  pi- 
lot, good  man,  told  us  he  was  no  hand  at  such  occupa- 
tions, and  would  go  after  something  else.  So  taking 
*  Long  Tom '  and  his  fishing-tackle,  he  marched  off"  quietly 
along  the  shores.  ^About  an  hour  afterwards  we  saw  him 
returning,  when  he  looked  quite  exhausted ;  and  on  our 
inquiring  the  cause,  said,  *  There  is  a  dew-fish  yonder, 


A  Dangerous  Fish. 


245 


and  a  few  baiacoudas,  but  I  'im  not  able  to  tring  theri,  ot 
even   to  haul  them  here;  please  send  the  sailors  after 
them.'    The  fishes  were  accordingly  brought,  and  as  I  had 
never  seen  a  'dew-fish/  I  examined  it  closely,  and  took 
an  outline  of  its  form,  which  some  days  hence  you  may 
perhaps  see.     It  exceeded  a  hundred  pounds  in  weight, 
and  afforded  excellent  eating.     The  balacouda  is  also  a 
good  fish,  but  at  times  a  dangerous  one,  for,  according  to 
the  pilot,  on  more  than  one  occasion  'some  of  these  gen- 
try '  had  followed  him,  when  waist-deep  in  the  water  in 
pursuit  of  a  more  valuable  prize,  until  in  self-defence  he 
had  to  spear  them,  fearing  that  the  *  gentlemen '  might  at 
one  dart  cut  off  his  legs,  or  some  other  nice  bit  with  which 
he  was  unwilling  to  part.     Having  filled  our  cask  from  a 
fine  well,  long  since  dug  in  the  sand  of  Cape  Sable,  either 
by  Seminole  Indians  or  pirates,  no  matter  which,  we  left 
Sandy  Isle  about  full  tide,   and  proceeded  homewards, 
giving  a  call  here  and  there  at  different  keys,  with  the 
view  of  procuring  rare  birds,  and  also  their  nests  and 
eggs.     We  had  twenty  miles  to  go  *  as  the  birds  fly,'  but 
the  tortuosity  of  the  channels  rendered  our  course  fully  a 
third  longer.     The  sun  was  descending  fast,  when  a  black 
cloud  suddenly  obscured   the  majestic  orb.     Our  sails 
swelled  by  a  breeze  that  v.as  scarcely  felt  by  us,  and  the 
pilot,  requesting  us  to  sit  on  the  weather  gunwale,  told  us 
that  we  were  '  going  to  get  it.'     One  sail  was  hauled  in 
and  secured,  and  the  other  was  reefed,  although  the  wind 
had   not  increaseu.     A  low  murmuring  noise  was  heard, 
and  across  the  cl-^ud  that  now  rolled  along  in  tumultuous 
masses  shot  vivid  hashes  of  lightning.     Our  experienced 
guide  steered  directly  across  a  flat  towards  the  nearest 
land.     The  sailors  passed  their  quids  from  one  cheek  to 
the  other,  and  our  pilot  having  covered  himself  with  his 
oil  jacket,  we  followed  his  example.  *  Blow,  sweet  breeze, ' 
cried  he  at  the  tiller,  *  and  we'll  reach  land  before  the 


! 


\^ 


m 


m 


i  Ml 


•>^t 


41 

■  J 1 


it 


146 


Life  of  Audubon. 


>l 


blast  overtakes  us  ;  for,  gentlemen,  it  is  a  furious  cloud 
yon.'  A  furious  cloud  indeed  was  the  one  which  now,  like 
an  eagle  on  outstretched  wings,  approached  so  swiftly, 
that  one  might  have  deemed  it  in  haste  to  destroy  us. 
We  were  not  more  than  a  cable's  length  from  the  shore, 
when  with  imperative  voice  the  pilot  calmly  said  to  us, 
'  Sit  quite  still,  gentlemen,  for  I  should  not  like  to  lose 
you  overboard  just  now ;  the  boat  can't  upset,  my  word 
for  that,  if  you  will  but  sit  still ;  here  we  have  it  I'  Read- 
er, persons  who  have  never  witnessed  a  hurricane,  such 
as  not  unfrequently  desolates  the  sultry  climates  of  the 
south,  can  scarcely  form  an  idea  of  their  terrific  grandeur. 
One  would  think  that,  not  content  with  laying  waste  all 
on  land,  it  must  needs  sweep  the  waters  of  the  shallows 
quite  dry  to  quench  its  thirst.  No  respite  for  a  moment 
does  it  afford  to  the  objects  within  the  reach  of  its  furious 
current.  Like  the  scythe  of  the  destroying  angel,  it  cuts 
every  thing  by  the  roots,  as  it  were,  with  the  careless  ease 
of  the  experienced  mower.  Each  of  its  revolving  sweeps 
collects  a  heap  that  might  be  likened  to  the  full  sheaf 
which  the  husbandman  flings  by  his  side.  On  it  goes, 
with  a  wildness  and  fury  that  are  indescribable ;  and  when 
at  last  its  frightful  blasts  have  ceased,  nature,  weeping 
and  disconsolate,  is  left  bereaved  of  her  beautiful  off- 
spring. In  instances,  even  a  full  century  is  required  be- 
fore, with  all  her  powerful  energies,  she  can  repair  her 
loss.  The  planter  has  not  only  lost  his  mansion,  his 
crops,  and  his  flocks,  but  he  has  to  clear  his  lands  anew, 
covered  and  entangled  as  they  are  with  the  trunks  and 
branches  of  trees,  that  are  everywhere  strewn.  The  bark 
overtaken  by  the  storm  is  cast  on  the  lee-shore,  and  if 
any  are  left  to  witness  the  fatal  results  they  are  the 
*  wreckers '  alone,  who,  with  inward  delight,  gaze  upon  the 
melancholy  spectacle.  Our  light  bark  shivered  like  a  leaf 
the  instant  the  blast  reached  her  sides.     We  thought  she 


Bird  Seeking. 


HI 


had  gone  over ;  but  the  next  instant  she  was  on  the  shore, 
and  now,  in  contemplation  of  the  sublime  and  awful 
storm,  I  gazed  around  me.  The  waters  drifted  like  snow , 
the  tough  mangroves  hid  their  tops  amid  their  roots,  and 
the  loud  roaring  of  the  waves  driven  among  them  blend- 
ed with  the  howl  of  the  tempest.  It  was  not  rain  that 
fell ;  file  masses  of  water  flew  in  a  horizontal  direction, 
and  where  a  part  of  my  body  was  exposed,  I  felt  as  if  a 
smart  blow  had  been  given  me  on  it.  But  enough :  in 
half  an  hour  it  was  over.  The  pure  blue  sky  once  more 
embellished  the  heavens,  and  altliough  it  was  now  quite 
night,  we  considered  our  situation  a  good  one.  The  crew 
and  some  of  the  party  spent  the  night  on  board ;  the  pi- 
lot, myself,  and  one  of  my  assistants  took  to  the  heart  of 
the  mangroves,  and  having  found  high  land,  we  made  a 
fire  as  well  as  we  could,  spread  a  tarpaulin,  and  fixing  our 
insect-bars  over  us,  soon  forgot  in  sleep  the  horrors  that 
had  surrounded  us.  Next  day  the  Marion  proceeded  on 
her  cruise,  and  in  a  few  more  days,  having  anchored  in 
another  safe  harbor,  we  visited  other  keys,  of  which  I 
will,  with  your  leave,  give  you  a  short  account. 

"  The  deputy  collector  of  Indian  Isle  gave  me  the  use 
of  his  pilot  for  a  few  weeks,  and  I  was  the  more  gratified 
by  this,  that  besides  knowing  him  to  be  a  good  man  and 
a  perfect  sailor,  I  was  now  convinced  that  he  possessed  a 
great  knowledge  of  the  habits  of  birds,  and  could  with- 
out loss  of  time  lead  me  to  their  haunts.  We  were  a 
hundred  miles  or  so  farther  to  the  south.  Gay  May,  like 
a  playful  babe,  gambolled  on  the  bosom  of  his  mother 
nature,  and  every  thing  was  replete  with  life  and  joy. 
The  pilot  had  spoken  to  me  of  some  birds  which  I  was 
very  desirous  of  obtaining.  One  morning,  therefore,  we 
went  in  two  boats  to  some  distant  isle,  where  they  were  said 
to  breed.  Our  difiiculties  in  reaching  that  key  might  to 
some  seem  more  imaginary  than  real,  were  I  faithfully  to 


■« 


I 


i 


III 


<■*:! 


>     Ij 


If 


,.  4  ,     ■  J. 


f'l 


'!( 


4  ' 


r 


148 


Life  of  Audubon, 


I 


"   '  ■  i 


*  -il 


describe  them.  Suffice  it  for  me  to  tell  you  that,  aftei 
hauling  our  boats  and  pushing  them  with  our  hands  for 
upwards  of  nine  ,'iiles  over  the  flats,  we  at  last  reached 
fhe  deep  channel  that  usually  surrounds  each  of  the  man- 
grove isles.  We  were  much  exhausted  by  the  labor  and 
excessive  heat,  but  we  were  now  floating  on  deep  water, 
and  by  resting  under  the  shade  of  some  mangroves,  v/a 
were  soon  refreshed  by  the  breeze  that  gently  blew  from 
the  gulf. 

"  The  heron  which  I  have  named  *  Ardea  occidentalis ' 
was  seen  moving  majestically  in  great  numbers,  the  tide 
rose  and  drove  them  away,  and  as  they  came  towards  us, 
to  alight  and  rest  for  a  while  on  the  tallest  trees,  we  shot 
as  many  as  I  wished.  I  also  took  under  my  charge  sev- 
eral of  their  young  alive.  At  another  time  we  visited  the 
*  Mule  Ke^s ; '  there  the  prospect  was  in  many  respects 
dismal  enough.  As  I  followed  their  shores,  I  saw  bales 
of  cotton  floating  in  all  the  coves,  while  spars  of  every 
description  lay  on  the  beach,  and  far  off  on  the  reefs  I 
could  see  the  last  remains  of  a  lost  ship,  her  dismasted 
hulk.  Several  schooners  were  around  her ;  they  were 
'wreckers.*  J  turned  me  frc  i  the  sight  with  a  heavy 
heart.  Indeed,  as  I  slowly  proceeded,  I  dreaded  to  meet 
the  floating  or  cast-ashore  bodies  of  some  of  the  unfor- 
tunate crew.  Our  visit  to  the  *  Mule  Keys '  was  in  no  way 
profitable,  for  besides  meeting  with  but  a  few  birds,  in  two 
or  three  instances  I  was,  while  swimming  in  the  deep 
channel  of  a  mangrove  isle,  much  nearer  a  large  shark 
than  I  wish  ever  to  be  again." 


U: 


'4,, 


'^'^^iS^^mi^^^^^^^^ 


CHAPTER    XX. 


Seventh  Florida  Episode ;   Tlie  Wreckers. 

ONG  before  I  reached  the  lovely  islets  that 
border  the  south-eastern  shores  of  the  Floridas, 
the  accounts  I  had  heard  of  *  The  Wreckers ' 
had  deeply  prcji'diccd  me  against  them.  Often  had  I 
been  informed  of  the  cruel  and  cowardly  methods  which 
it  was  alleged  they  employed  to  allure  vessels  of  all  na- 
tions to  the  dreaded  reefs,  that  they  might  plunder  their 
cargoes,  and  rob  their  dews  and  passengers  of  their 
effects.  I  therefore  could  have  little  desire  to  meet  with 
such  men  under  any  circumstances,  much  less  to  become 
liable  to  receive  their  aid  ;  and  with  the  name  of  '  wrecker ' 
there  were  associated  in  my  mind  ideas  of  piratical  dep- 
redation, barbarous  usage,  and  even  murder.  One  fair 
afternoon,  while  I  was  standing  on  the  polished  deck 
of  the  United  States  revenue  cutter,  the  Marion,  a  sail 
hove  in  sight,  beaiing  in  an  opposite  course,  close-hauled 
to  the  wind.  The  gentle  sway  of  her  masts,  as  she  rocked 
to  and  fro  in  the  breeze,  brought  to  my  mind  the  wavings 
of  the  reeds  on  the  fertile  banks  of  the  Mississippi.  By 
and  by  the  vessel,  altering  her  course,  approached  us. 
The  Marion,  like  a  sea-bird  with  extended  wings,  swept 
through  the  waters,  gently  inclining  to  either  side,  while 
the  unknown  vessel  leaped  as  it  were  from  wave  to  wave, 
like  the  dolphin  in  eager  pursuit  of  liis  prey.  In  a  short 
time  we  were  gliding  side  by  side,  and  the  commander 
of  the  strange  schooner  saluted  our  captain,  who  promptly 
returned  the  compliment.  What  a  beautiful  vessel,  we 
all  thought,  how  trim,  how  clean  rigged,  and  how  well 
manned.     She  swims  like  a  duck,  and  now,  with  a  broad 


\  '\ 


U 


m 


250 


Life  of  Audubon, 


sheer,  off  she  makes  for  the  reefs,  a  few  miles  under  oui 
lee.  There  in  that  narrow  passage,  well  known  to  hei 
commander,  she  rolls,  tumbles,  and  dances  like  a  giddy 
thing,  her  copper  sheathing  now  gleaming,  and  again  dis- 
appearing under  the  waves.  But  the  passage  is  made, 
and  now,  hauling  on  the  wind,  she  resumes  her  former 
course,  and  gradually  recedes  from  the  view.  Reader,  it 
was  a  Florida  wrecker.  When  at  the  Tortugas,  I  paid  a 
vis.'t  to  several  vessels  of  this  kind,  in  company  with  my 
friend  Robert  Day,  Esq.  Wc  had  observed  the  regularity 
and  quickness  of  the  men  then  employed  at  their  arduous 
tasks,  j.\nd  as  we  approached  the  largest  schooner^  I  ad- 
mired her  form,  so  well  adapted  to  her  occupation,  her 
great  breadth  of  beam,  her  light  draught,  the  correctness 
of  her  water-line,  the  neatness  of  her  painted  sides,  the 
smoothness  of  her  well-greased  masts,  and  the  beauty  of 
her  rigging.  We  were  welcomed  on  board  with  all  the 
frankness  of  our  native  tars.  Si'ence  and  order  prevailed 
on  her  decks.  The  commander  and  the  second  officer 
led  us  into  a  spacious  cabin,  well  lighted,  and  furnished 
with  every  convenience  for  fifteen  or  more  passengers. 
The  former  brought  me  his  collection  of  marine  shells, 
and  whenever  I  pointed  to  one  that  I  had  not  seen  before, 
offered  it  with  so  much  kindness,  that  I  found  it  necessar}' 
to  be  careful  in  expressing  my  admiration  of  any  particu- 
lar shell.  He  had  also  many  eggs  of  rare  birds,  which 
were  all  handed  over  to  me,  with  an  assurance  that  be- 
fore the  month  should  expire  a  new  set  could  easily 
be  procured  ;  for,  said  he,  *  we  have  much  idle  time  on 
the  reefs  at  this  season.'  Dinner  was  served,  and  we  par- 
took of  their  fare,  which  consisted  of  fish,  fowl  and  other 
materials.  These  roveis  were  both  from  down  east,  were 
stout  active  men,  cleanly  and  smart  in  their  attire.  In  a 
short  time  we  were  all  extremely  social  and  merry.  They 
thought  my  visit  to  the  Tortugas  in  quest  of  birds  was 


•";>) 


T'he  Wreckers, 


251 


rather  a  curious  fancy,  but  notwithstanding,  they  expressed 
their  pleasure  while  looking  at  some  of  my  drawings,  and 
offered  their  services  in  procuring  specimens.  Expedi- 
tions far  and  near  were  proposed,  and  on  settling  that 
one  of  them  was  to  take  place  on  the  morrow,  we  parted 
friends.  Early  next  morning  several  of  these  kind  men 
accompanied  me  to  a  small  key  called  Booby  IslandMi 
about  ten  miles  distant  from  the  lighthouse.  Their  boats 
were  well  manned,  and  rowed  with  long  and  steady  strokes, 
such  as  whalers  and  men-of-war's  men  are  wont  to  drav,. 
The  captain  sang,  and  at  times,  by  way  of  frolic,  ran  a 
race  with  our  own  beautiful  bark.  The  Booby  Isle  v^s 
soon  reached,  and  our  sport  there  was  equal  to  any  we 
had  elsewhere.  They  were  capital  shots,  had  excellent 
gfuns,  and  knew  more  about  boobies  and  noddies  than 
nine-tenths  of  the  best  naturalists  in  the  world. 

"  But  what  will  you  say  when  I  tell  you  that  the 
*  Florida  wreckers '  are  excellent  at  a  deer-hunt,  and  that 
at  certain  seasons,  *  when  business  is  slack,'  they  are 
wont  to  land  on  some  extensive  key,  and  in  a  few  hours 
procure  a  supply  of  delicious  venison.  Some  days  after 
the  same  party  took  me  on  an  expedition  in  quest  of  sea- 
shells.  There  we  were  all  in  the  water  at  times  to  the 
waist,  and  now  and  then  much  deeper.  Now  they  would 
dip  like  ducks,  and  on  emerging  would  hold  up  a  beauti- 
ful shell.  This  occupation  they  seemed  to  enjoy  above  all 
others.  The  duties  of  the  Marion  having  been  per- 
formed, intimation  of  our  intended  departure  reached 
the  wreckers  An  invitation  was  sent  me  to  go  and  see 
them  on  board  their  vessel,  which  I  accepted.  Their 
object  on  th>«  occasion  was  to  present  me  with  some 
superb  corals,  shells,  live  turtles  of  the  hawk-billed  spe- 
cies, and  a  great  quantity  of  eggs.  Not  a  picayune  would 
they  receive  in  return,  but  putting  some  letters  in  my 
hands,  requested  me  to  he  so  good  as  to  put  them  in  thij 


l^ 


'■m- 


It 


'"M 

1  k: 

i '  ■   i  1  i  • 

-  i;  1 

'  ^h^ 

'  ^ ; 

1 

,  %•  r;'" 

•   Mi 

li      '^  ;  ..' 

■i,  :?, 


252 


Lj/^  of  Audubon, 


mail  at  Charleston,  adding  that  they  were  for  their  wives 
down  east.  So  anxious  did  they  appear  to  be  to  do  all 
they  could  for  me,  that  they  proposed  to  sail  before  the 
Marion,  and  meet  her  under  weigh,  to  give  me  some 
birds  that  were  rare  on  the  coast,  and  of  which  they 
knew  the  haunts.  Circumstances  connected  with  the  ser- 
vice prevented  this,  however,  and  with  sincere  regret,  and 
a  good  portion  of  friendship,  I  bade  these  excellent  fel- 
lows adieu.  How  different,  thought  I,  is  often  the  knowl- 
edge of  things  acquired  from  personal  observation,  from 
that  obtained  by  report.  I  had  never  before  seen  Florida 
wreckers,  nor  has  it-  since  been  my  fortune  to  fall  in  with 
any ;  but  my  good  friend  Dr.  Benjamin  Strobel,  having 
furnished  me  with  a  graphic  account  of  a  few  days  he 
spent  with  them,  I  shall  present  you  with  it  in  his  own 
words. 

"  *  On  the  1 2th  day  of  September,  while  lying  in  har- 
bor at  Indian  Key,  we  were  joined  by  five  wrecking  ves- 
sels. Their  licenses  having  expired,  it  was  necessary  to 
go  to  Key  West,  to  renew  them.  We  determined  to  ac- 
company them  the  next  morning,  and  here  it  will  not  be 
amiss  for  me  to  say  a  few  words  respecting  these  far- 
famed  wreckers,  their  captains  and  crews.  From  all  that 
I  had  heard,  I  expected  to  see  a  parcel  of  dirty,  pirate- 
looking  vessels,  officered  and  manned  by  a  set  of  black- 
whiskered  fellows,  who  carried  murder  in  their  very  looks. 
I  was  agreeably  surprised  on  discovering  that  the  vessels 
were  fine  large  sloops  and  schooners,  regular  clippers, 
kept  in  first-rate  order.  The  captains  generally  were 
joviai,  good-humored  sons  of  Neptune,  who  manifested  a 
disposition  to  be  polite  and  hospitable,  and  to  afford 
every  facility  to  persons  passing  up  and  down  the  reefs. 
The  crews  were  heart)-,  well-dressea,  and  honest-looking 
men.  On  the  i8th,  at  the  appointed  hour,  we  all  set  sail 
together,  that  is,  the  five  wreckers  and  the  schooner  Jane. 


^^^ 


7'he  IVreckers, 


^53 


As  our  vessel  was  not  noted  for  fast  sailing,  we  accepted 
an  invitation  to  go  on  board  of  a  wrecker.  The  fleet  got 
under  weigh  about  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  wind 
light  but  fair,  the  water  smooth,  and  the  day  fine.  I  can 
scarcely  find  words  to  express  the  pleasure  and  gratifica- 
tion which  I  this  day  experienced.  The  sea  was  of  a 
beautiful,  soft,  pea-green  color,  smooth  as  a  sheet  of  glass, 
and  as  transparent,  its  surface  agitated  only  by  our  ves- 
sels as  they  parted  its  bosom,  or  by  the  pelican  in  pursuit 
of  his  prey,  which,  rising  for  a  considerable  distance  in  the 
air,  would  suddenly  plunge  down  with  distended  mandi- 
bles, and  secure  his  food.  The  vessels  of  our  little  fleet, 
with  every  sail  set  that  could  catch  a  breeze,  and  the 
white  foam  curling  round  the  prows  glided  silently  along, 
like  islands  of  flitting  shadows  on  an  immovable  sea  of 
light.  Several  fathoms  below  the  surface  of  the  water, 
and  under  us,  we  saw  great  quantities  of  fish  diving  and 
sporting  amongst  the  sea-grass,  sponges,  sea-feathers,  and 
corals,  with  which  the  bottom  was  covered.  On  our 
right  hand  the  Florida  Keys,  as  we  made  them  in  the  dis- 
tance, looked  like  specks  upon  the  water,  but  as  we 
neared  them,  rose  to  view  as  if  by  enchantment,  clad  in 
the  richest  livery  of  spring,  each  variety  of  color  and  hue 
rendered  soft  and  delicate  by  a  clear  sky  and  brilliant  sun 
ovei  id.  All  was  like  a  fairy  scene  ;  my  heart  leaped 
up  in  delighted  admiration,  and  I  could  not  but  exclaim, 
in  the  language  of  Scott,  ^ 

Those  seas  behold. 

Round  thrice  an  hundred  islands  rolled. 

The  trade-winds  piayed  around  us  with  balmy  and  re- 
fi"eshing  sweetness  :  and  to  give  life  and  animation  to  the 
s^ciie,  we  had  a  contest  for  th  ■  mastery  between  all  the 
vessels  of  the  fleet,  while  a  deep  interest  was  excited  in 
this  or  that  vessel,  as  she  shot  ahead  or  fell  astern 


I 


,  ! 


I 


m 


if. 


V 


;^ 


•    ..Tttf 


Ei?l 


1 


^54 


Life  of  Audubon* 


About  three  o'clock  of  the  afternoon  we  arrived  off  the 
Bay  of  Honda.  The  wind  being  light,  and  no  prospect 
of  reaching  Key  West  that  night,  it  was  agreed  we  should 
make  a  harbor  here.  We  entered  a  beautiful  basin,  and 
came  to  anchor  about  four  o'clock.  Boats  were  launch- 
ed, and  several  hunting  parties  formed.  We  landed,  and 
were  soon  on  the  scent,  some  going  in  search  of  shells, 
others  of  birds.  An  Indian  who  had  been  picked  up 
somewhere  along  the  coast  by  some  wrecker,  and  who 
was  employed  as  a  hunter,  was  sent  on  shore  in  search 
of  venison.  Previous  to  his  leaving  the  vessel  a  rifle  was 
loaded  with  a  single  ball,  and  put  into  his  hands.  After 
an  absence  of  several  hours  he  returned  with  two  deer, 
which  he  had  killed  at  a  single  shot.  He  watched  until 
they  were  both  in  range  of  his  gun,  side  by  side,  when 
he  fired  and  brought  them  down.  All  hands  having  re- 
turned, and  the  fruits  of  our  excursion  being  collected, 
we  had  wherewithal  to  make  an  abundant  supper.  Most 
of  the  game  was  sent  on  board  of  the  larger  vessel,  where 
we  proposed  supping.  Our  vessels  were  all  lying  within 
hail  of  each  other,  and  as  soon  as  the  moon  arose,  boats 
were  seen  passing  from  one  to  the  other,  and  all  were 
busily  and  happily  engaged  in  exchanging  civilities. 
One  would  never  have  supposed  that  these  men  were 
professional  rivals,  so  apparent  was  the  good  feeling  that 
prevailed  amongst  them.  About  nine  o'clock  we  started 
for  supper.  A  cumber  of  persons  had  already  collected, 
and  as  soon  as  we  arrived  on  board  the  vessel,  a  German 
sailor,  who  played  remarkably  well  on  the  violin,  was 
summoned  to  the  quarter  deck,  when  all  hands  with  a 
good  will  cheerily  danced  to  lively  airs  until  supper  was 
ready.  The  table  was  laid  in  the  cabin,  and  groaned  un- 
der its  load  of  venison,  wild  ducks,  pigeons,  curlews  and 
fish.  Toasting  and  singing  succeeded  the  supper,  and 
among  other  curious  matters  introduced,  the  following 


# 


The  P/reckers  Song. 


255 


song  was  sung  by  the  German  fiddler,  who  accompanied 
his  voice  with  his  instrument.  He  was  said  to  be  the  au- 
thor of  the  song.  I  say  nothing  of  the  poetry,  but  mere- 
ly give  it  as  it  came  on  my  ear.  It  is  certainly  very 
characteristic. 

THE  WRECKERS'  SONG. 

Come  all  ye  good  people  one  and  all, 

Come  listen  to  my  song  ; 
A  few  remarks  I  have  to  make, 

Which  won't  be  very  long, 
Tis  of  our  vessel,  stout  and  goot, 
As  ever  yet  was  built  of  woot ; 
Along  the  reef  where  the  breakers  roar, 
De  wreckers  on  de  Florida  shore. 

Key  Tavemier's  our  rendezvous. 

At  anchor  there  we  lie  ; 
And  see  the  vessels  in  the  Gulf 

Carelessly  passing  by. 
When  night  comes  on  we  dance  and  sing, 
Whilst  the  current  some  vessel  is  floating  in ; 
When  daylight  comes,  a  ship's  on  shore. 
Among  de  rocks  where  de  breakers  roar. 

When  daylight  dawns  we're  under  weigh, 

And  every  sail  is  set ; 
And  if  the  wind  it  should  prove  light, 

Why  then  our  sails  we  wet. 
To  gain  her  first  each  eager  strives. 
To  save  de  cargo  and  de  pepole's  lives ; 
Amongst  de  rocks,  where  de  breakers  roar, 
De  wreckers  on  the  Florida  shore. 

When  we  get 'longside,  we  find  she's  bilged^ 

We  know  veil  vat  to  do ; 
Save  de  cargo  dat  we  can, 

De  sails  and  rigging  too. 
Den  down  to  Key  West  we  soon  vill  go 


!  . 


:  i 


i< 


,'. 


'^'A 


*  m  ^ 


1; 


11 

mi 


256  Life  of  Audubon, 

When  quickly  our  salvage  we  shall  know; 
When  every  ting  it  is  fairly  sold, 
Our  money  down  to  us  it  is  told. 

Den  one  week's  cruise  we'll  have  on  shore, 

Before  we  do  sail  again ; 
And  drink  success  to  the  sailor  lads 

Dat  are  ploughing  of  de  main. 
And  when  you  are  passing  by  this  way, 
On  Florida  Reef  should  you  chance  to  stray, 
Why,  we  will  come  to  you  on  the  shore, 
Amongst  de  rocks  where  de  breakers  roar. 

"  *  Great  emphasis  was  laid  upon  particular  words  by 
the  singer,  who  had  a  broad  German  accent.  Between 
the  verses  he  played  a  symphony,  remarking,  "Gentle- 
mens,  I  makes  dat  myself."  The  chorus  was  trolled  by 
twenty  or  thirty  voices,  which  in  the  stillness  of  the  night 
produced  no  unpleasant  effect' " 


Si 

hi 


'B 


CHAPTER  XXL 

Eighth  Florida  Episode:   The  Turtlers  of  Florida. 

HE  Tortugas  are  a  group  of  islands  lying  aboul 
eighty  miles  from  Key  West,  and  the  ast  of 
those  that  seem  to  defend  the  peninsula  of  the 
Floridas.  They  consist  of  five  or  six  extremely  low  un- 
inhabitable banks,  formed  of  shelly  sand,  and  are  resort- 
ed to  principally  by  that  class  of  men  called  wreckers 
and  turtlers.  Between  these  islands  are  deep  channels, 
which,  although  extremely  intricate,  are  well  known  to 
those  adventurers,  as  well  as  to  the  commanders  of  the 
revenue  cutters  whose  duties  call  them  to  that  danger- 
ous coast.  The  great  coral  reef  or  wall  lies  about  eight 
miles  from  these  inhospitable  isles,  in  the  direction  of  the 
Gulf,  and  on  it  many  an  ignorant  or  careless  navigator 
has  suffered  shipwreck.  The  whole  ground  around  them 
is  densely  covered  with  corals,  sea-fans,  and  other  pro- 
ductioiiS  of  the  deep,  amid  which  crawl  innumerable  tes- 
taceous animals ;  while  shoals  of  curious  and  beautiful 
fishes  fill  the  limpid  waters  above  them.  Turtles  of  dif- 
ferent species  resort  to  these  banks,  to  deposit  their  eggs 
in  the  burning  sand,  and  clouds  of  sea-fowl  arrive  every 
spring  for  the  same  purpose.  These  are  follow  d  by  per- 
sons called  *  eggers,'  who,  when  their  cargoes  are  com- 
pleted, sail  to  distant  markets  to  exchange  their  ill-gotten 
ware  for  a  portion  of  that  gold  on  the  acquisition  of 
which  all  men  seem  bent. 

"  The  Marion  having  occasion  to  visit  the  Tortugas,  I 
gladly  embraced  the  opportunity  of  seeing  those  cele- 


i  J 


'fm 


i  ■  '' 


'Mh 


I 


ii  ^^': 


\i 


258 


Life  of  Audubon, 


brated  islets.  A  few  hours  before  sunset  the  joyful  cry 
of  *  land '  announced  our  approach  to  them,  but  as  the 
breeze  was  fresh,  and  the  pilot  was  well  acquainted  with 
all  the  windings  of  the  channels,  we  held  011,  and  dropped 
anchor  before  twilight.  If  you  have  never  seen  the  sun 
setting  in  those  latitudes,  I  would  recommend  you  to 
make  a  voyage  for  what  purpose,  for  I  much  doubt  if,  in 
any  other  portion  of  the  world,  the  departure  of  the  orb 
of  day  is  accompanied  with  such  gorgeous  appearances 
Look  at  the  great  red  disc,  increased  to  triple  its  ordina- 
ry dimensions.  Now  it  has  partially  sunk  beneath  the 
distant  line  of  waters,  and  with  its  still  remaining  half  ir- 
radiates the  whole  heavens  with  a  flood  of  light,  purpling 
the  far-off  clouds  that  hover  over  the  western  horizon. 
A  blaze  of  refulgent  glory  streams  through  the  portals  of 
the  west,  and  the  masses  of  vapor  assume  the  semblance 
of  mountains  of  molten  gold.  But  the  sun  has  now  dis- 
appeared, and  from  the  east  slowly  advances  the  gray 
curtain  which  night  draws  over  the  world.  The  night- 
hawk  is  flapping  his  noiseless  wings  in  the  gentle  sea- 
breeze  ;  the  terns,  safely  landed,  have  settled  on  their 
nests  ]  the  frigate  pelicans  are  seen  wending  their  way 
tc  distant  mangroves  ;  and  the  brown  gannet,  in  search 
of  a  resting-place,  has  perrlicd  on  the  yard  of  the  vessel. 
Slowly  advancing  landward,  their  heads  alone  above  the 
water,  are  observed  the  heavily-laden  turtles,  anxious  to 
deposit  their  eggs  in  the  well-known  sands.  On  the  sur- 
face of  the  gently  rippling  stream  I  dimly  see  their  broad 
forms  as  they  toil  along,  while  at  intervals  may  be  heard 
their  hurried  breathings,  indicative  of  suspicion  and  fear. 
The  moon  with  her  silvery  light  now  illumines  the  scen'i, 
and  the  turtle  having  landed,  slowly  and  laboriously 
drags  her  heavy  body  over  the  sand,  her  *  flappers  *  be- 
ing better  adapted  for  motion  in  water  than  on  the  shore. 
Up  the  slope  however  she  works  her  way,  and  see  how  ia 


Torfugas  Turtles. 


259 


dustriously  she  removes  the  sand  beneath  her,  casting  it 
out  on  either  side.  Layer  after  layer  she  deposits  her 
eggs,  arranging  them  in  the  most  careful  manner,  and 
with  her  hind  paddles  brings  the  sand  over  them.  The 
business  is  accomplished,  the  spot  is  covered  over,  and 
with  a  joyful  heart  the  turtle  swiftly  retires  toward  the 
shore  and  launches  into  the  deep. 

"  But  the  Tortugas  are  not  the  only  breeding-places 
of  the  turtle :  these  animals,  on  the  contrary,  frequent 
many  other  keys  as  well  as  various  parts  of  the  coast  of 
the  mainland.  There  are  four  different  species,  which 
are  known  by  the  names  of  the  green  turtle,  the  hawk- 
billed  turtle,  the  logger-head  turtle,  and  the  trunk  turtle. 
The  first  is  considered  the  best  as  an  article  of  food,  in 
which  capacity  it  is  well  known  to  most  epicures.  It  ap- 
proaches the  shores,  and  enters  the  bays,  inlets,  and  riv- 
ers, early  in  the  month  of  April,  after  having  spent  the 
winters  in  the  deep  waters.  It  deposits  its  eggs  in  con- 
venient places,  at  two  different  times,  in  May,  and  once 
again  in  June.  The  first  deposit  is  the  largest,  and  the 
last  the  least,  the  total  quantity  being  at  an  average  about 
two  hundred  and  forty.  The  hawk-billed  turtle,  whose 
shell  is  so  valuable  as  an  article  of  commerce,  being  used 
for  various  purposes  in  the  arts,  is  the  next  with  respect 
to  the  quality  of  its  flesh.  It  resorts  to  the  outer  keys 
only,  where  it  deposits  its  eggs  in  two  sets,  first  in  July 
and  again  in  August,  although  it  crawls  the  beaches  much 
earlier  in  the  season,  as  if  to  look  for  a  safe  place.  The 
average  number  of  its  eggs  is  about  three  hundred.  The 
logger-head  visits  the  Tortugas  in  April,  and  lays  from 
that  period  until  late  in  June  three  sets  of  eggs,  each  set 
averaging  a  hundred  and  seventy.  The  trunk  turtle, 
which  is  sometimes  of  an  enormous  size,  and  which  has 
a  pouch  like  a  pelican,  reaches  the  shores  latest  The 
shell  and  fish  are  so  soft  that  one  may  push  the  fingei 


\.  t. 


V-- 


'  i; 


i 

i 


i 


) 


I 


f 


I 

■  n  I 


li  !* 


s  W 


F 


i'mf: 


I 


'■\H 


I 


260 


Life  of  Audubon. 


into  them  almost  as  inio  a  lump  of  butter.  This  species 
is  therefore  considered  as  the  least  valuable,  and  indeed 
is  seldom  eaten,  unless  by  the  Indians,  who,  ever  alert 
when  the  turtle  season  commences,  first  carry  off  the  eggs 
which  it  lays  in  the  season,  and  afterwards  catch  the  tur- 
tles themselves.  The  average  number  of  eggs  which  it 
lays  at  two  sets  may  be  three  hundred  and  fifty. 

"  The  logger-head  and  the  trunk  turtles  are  the  least 
cautious  in  choosing  the  places  in  which  to  deposit  their 
eggs,  whereas  the  two  other  species  select  the  wildest  and 
most  secluded  spots.  The  green  turtle  resorts  either  to 
the  shores  of  the  Main,  between  Cape  Sable  and  Cape 
Florida,  or  enters  Indian,  Halifax,  and  other  large  rivers 
or  inlets,  from  which  it  makes  its  retreat  as  speedily  as 
possible,  and  betakes  itself  to  the  open  sea.  Great  num- 
bers, however,  killed  by  the  turtlers  and  Indians,  as 
well  as  by  various  species  of  carnivorous  animals,  as  cou- 
gars, lynxes,  bears,  and  wolves.  The  hawk -bill,  which  is 
still  more  wary,  and  is  always  the  most  difficult  to  surprise, 
keeps  to  the  sea-islands.  All  the  species  employ  nearly 
the  same  method  in  depositing  their  eggs  in  the  sand,  and 
as  I  have  several  times  observed  them  in  the  act,  I  am 
enabled  to  present  you  with  a  circumstantial  account  of 
them. 

"  On  first  nearing  the  shores,  and  mostly  on  fine  calm 
moonlight  nights,  the  turtle  raises  her  head  above  the 
water,  being  still  distant  thirty  or  forty  yards  from  the 
beach,  looks  around  her,  and  attentively  examines  the 
objects  on  the  shore.  Should  she  observe  nothing  likely 
on  the  shore  to  disturb  her  intended  operations,  she  emits 
a  loud  hissing  sound,  by  which  such  of  her  enemies  as 
are  unaccustomed  to  it  are  startled,  and  so  are  apt  to  re- 
move to  another  place,  although  unseen  by  her.  Should 
she  hear  any  noise,  or  perceive  indications  of  danger,  she 
instantly  sinks  and  goes  off  to  a  considerable  distanrej 


Depositing  Eggs. 


261 


but  should  every  thing  be  quiet,  sh»?  advances  slowly  to- 
wards the  beach,  crawls  over  it,  her  head  raised  to  th« 
full  stretch  of  her  neck,  and  when  she  has  reached 
place  fitted  for  her  purpose  she  gazes  all  round  in  silence. 
Finding  *  all  well,'  she  proceeds  to  form  a  hole  in  the  sand, 
which  she  effects  by  removing  it  from  under  her  body 
with  her  hind  flappers,  scooping  it  out  with  so  much  dex- 
terity that  the  sides  seldom  if  ever  fall  in.  The  sand  is 
raised  alternately  with  each  flapper,  as  with  a  large  ladle, 
until  it  has  accumulated  behind  her,  when  supporting  her- 
self with  her  head  and  fore  part  on  the  ground  fronting 
her  body,  she,  with  a  spring  from  each  flapper,  sends  the 
sand  around  her,  scattering  it  to  the  distance  of  several 
feet  In  this  manner  the  hole  is  dug  to  the  depth  of 
eighteen  inches,  or  sometimes  more  than  two  feet.  This 
labor  I  have  seen  performed  in  the  short  period  ci  nine 
minutes.  The  eggs  are  then  dropped  one  by  o.'je,  and 
disposed  in  regular  layers  to  the  number  of  a  huaJred 
and  fifty,  or  sometimes  two  hundred.  The  whole  lime 
spent  in  this  part  of  the  operation  may  be  about  twenty 
minutes  She  now  scrapes  the  loose  sand  back  over  the 
eggs,  and  so  levels  them  and  smooths  the  surface,  that 
few  persons  on  seeing  the  spot  could  imagine  any  thing 
had  been  done  to  it.  This  accomplished  to  her  mind, 
she  retreats  to  the  water  with  all  possible  despatch,  leav- 
ing the  hatching  of  the  eggs  to  the  heat  of  the  sand. 
When  a  turtle,  a  logger-head  for  example,  is  in  the  act  of 
dropping  her  egg,  she  will  not  move,  although  one  should 
go  up  to  her,  or  even  seat  himself  on  her  back,  for  it 
seems  that  at  this  moment  she  finds  it  necessary  to  pro- 
ceed at  all  events,  and  is  unable  to  intermit  her  labor. 
The  moment  it  is  finished,  however,  off"  she  starts,  nor 
would  it  then  be  possible  for  one,  unless  he  were  as  strong 
as  Hercules,  to  turn  her  over  and'  secure  her.  To  upset 
a  turtle  on  the  shore  one  is  obliged  to  fall  on  his  knees, 


^•51 


262 


Life  of  Audubon, 


II 

i.,f 

^B^l 

1 

B 

\ 

and  pLieing  his  shoulder  behind  her  fore-arm,  graduall) 
raise  her  u|)  by  pushing  with  great  force,  and  then  with  a 
jerk  throw  her  over.  Sometimes  it  requires  the  united 
strength  of  several  men  to  accomplish  this,  and  if  the  tur- 
tle should  be  of  very  great  size,  as  often  happens  on  that 
coast,  even  handspikes  are  employed.  Some  turtlers  are 
so  daring  as  to  swim  up  to  them  while  lying  asleep  on 
the  surface  of  the  water,  and  turn  them  over  in  their  own 
element,  when,  however,  a  boat  must  be  at  hand  to  ena- 
ble them  to  secure  their  prize.  Few  turtles  can  bite  be- 
yond the  reach  of  their  fore-legs,  and  few,  when  they  are 
once  turned  over,  can,  without  assistance,  regain  their 
natural  position.  But  notwithstanding  this,  their  flappers 
are  generally  secured  by  ropes,  so  as  to  render  their  es- 
cape impossible.  Persons  who  search  for  turtle-eggs  are 
provided  with  a  light  stiff  cane  or  gun-rod,  with  which 
they  go  along  the  shores,  probing  the  sand  near  the 
tracks  of  the  animal,  which,  however,  cannot  always  be 
seen  on  account  of  the  winds  and  heavy  rains  that  often 
obliterate  them.  The  nests  are  discovered  not  only  by 
men  but  also  by  beasts  of  prey,  and  the  eggs  are  collect 
^  '  o    destroyed  on  the  spot  in  great  numbers. 

"  On  certain  parts  of  the  shore  hundreds  of  turtles 
are  known  to  deposit  their  eggs  within  the  space  of  a 
mile.  They  form  a  new  hole  each  time  they  lay,  and  the 
second  is  generally  dug  near  the  first,  as  if  the  animal 
were  quite  unconscious  of  what  had  befallen  it.  It  will 
readily  be  understood  that  the  numerous  eggs  seen  in  a 
turtle  on  cutting  it  up  could  not  be  all  laid  the  same  sea- 
son. The  whole  number  deposited  by  an  individual  in 
one  summer  may  amount  to  four  hundred ;  whereas  if  the 
animal  be  caught  on  or  near  her  nest,  as  I  have  witness- 
ed, the  remaining  eggs,  all  small,  without  shells,  and  as 
it  were  threaded  like  so  many  beads,  exceed  three  thou- 
sand. In  an  instance  where  I  found  that  number,  the 
turtle  weighed  nearly  four  hundred  pounds. 


Habits  of  the  'Turtle. 


26 


**  The  young,  soon  after  being  hntrhed,  and  when 
yet  scarcely  larger  than  a  dollar,  scratch  their  way  through 
their  sandy  covering,  and  immediately  betake  themselves 
to  the  water.  The  food  of  the  grccii  turtle  consists  chief 
ly  of  marine  plants,  more  especially  the  grass-wrack 
{Z'jstt'ra  marina)^  which  they  cut  near  the  roots,  to  pro 
cure  the  most  tender  and  succulent  parts.  Their  fectling 
grounds,  as  I  have  elsewhere  said,  are  easily  discovered 
by  floating  masses  of  these  plants  on  the  flats  or  along 
the  shores  to  which  they  resort.  The  hawk- billed  species 
feeds  on  seaweeds,  crabs,  and  various  kinds  of  shell-fish 
and  fishes  j  the  logger-head  mostly  on  the  tish  of  conch- 
shells,  of  large  size,  which  they  are  enabled,  by  means  of 
their  powerful  beak,  to  crush  to  pieces  with  apparently  as 
much  ease  as  a  man  cracks  a  walnut.  One  which  was 
brought  on  board  the  Marion,  and  placed  near  the  fluke  of 
one  of  her  anchors,  made  a  deep  indentation  in  that  ham- 
mered piece  of  iron  that  quite  surprised  me.  The  trunk- 
turtle  feeds  on  mollusca,  fish,  Crustacea,  sea-urchins,  and 
various  marine  plants.  All  the  species  move  through  the 
water  with  surprising  speed ;  but  the  green  and  hawk- 
billed  in  particular  remind  you  by  their  celerity,  and  the 
ease  of  their  motions,  of  the  progress  of  a  bird  in  the  air. 
It  is  therefore  no  easy  matter  to  strike  one  with  a  spear, 
and  yet  this  is  often  done  by  an  accomplished  turtler. 
While  at  Key  West  and  other  islands  on  the  coast,  where 
I  made  the  observations  here  presented  to  you,  I  chanced 
to  have  need  to  purchase  some  turtles  to  feed  my  friends 
on  board  the  Lady  of  the  Green  Mantle — not  my  friends, 
her  gallant  officers,  or  the  brave  tars  who  formed  her 
crew,  for  all  of  them  had  already  been  satiated  with  tur- 
tle soup;  but  my  friends  the  herons,  of  which  I  had  a 
goodly  number  in  coops,  mtending  to  carry  them  to  John 
Bachman  of  Charleston,  and  other  persons  for  whom  I 
felt  a  sincere  regard.     So  I  went  to  a  '  crawl,'  acconi- 


I    , 


,     ,    1   ; 


t 


w 


( 


' 


ti:' 


I,  ^' 


f  ft' 

A' 


264 


Lift  of  Audubon, 


panied  by  Dr.  Benjamin  Strobel,  to  inquire  about  prices, 
when  to  my  surprise  I  found  the  smaller  the  turtles, 
*  above  ten  pounds'  weight,'  the  dearer  they  were,  and 
that  I  could  have  purchased  one  of  the  logger-head  kind, 
tliat  weighed  more,  than  seven  hundred  pounds,  for  little 
iiore  money  than  another  of  only  thirty  pounds. 

"  While  I  gazed  on  the  turtle  I  thought  of  the  soups  tlie 
contents  of  its  shell  would  have  furnished  for  a  lord- 
mayor's  dinner,  of  the  numerous  eggs  which  its  swollen 
body  contained,  and  of  the  curious  carriage  which  might 
be  made  of  its  shell — a  car  in  which  Venus  herself  might 
sail  over  the  Caribbean  Sea,  provided  her  tender  doves 
^ent  their  aid  in  drawing  the  divinity,  and  provided  no 
shark  or  hurricane  came  to  upset  it.  The  turtler  assured 
me  that,  although  the  great  monster  was  in  fact  better 
meat  than  any  other  of  a  less  size,  there  was  no  dispos- 
ing of  it,  unless  indeed  it  had  been  in  his  power  to  have 
sent  it  to  some  very  distant  market.  I  would  willingly 
have  purchased  it,  but  I  knew  that  if  killed  the  flesh 
could  not  keep  much  longer  than  a  day,  and  on  that  ac- 
count I  bought  eight  or  ten  small  ones,  which  *  my  friends 
really  relished  exceedingly,  and  which  served  to  support 
them  for  a  long  time.  Turtles  such  as  I  have  spoken  of 
are  caught  in  various  ways  on  the  coasts  of  the  Floridas,  or 
in  estuaries  or  rivers.  Sc  .ne  turtlers  are  in  the  habit  of 
setting  great  nets  acoss  the  entrance  of  streams,  so  as  to 
answer  the  purpose  either  at  the  flow  or  at  the  ebb  of  the 
waters.  These  nets  are  formed  of  very  large  meshes,  into 
which  the  turtles  partially  get  entangled.  Others  har- 
poon them  in  the  usual  manner ;  but  in  my  estimation,  no 
method  is  equal  to  that  employed  by  Mr.  Egan,  the  pilot, 
of  Indian  Isle. 

"That  extraordinary  turtler  had  an  iron  instrument 
which  he  called  a  'peg,'  and  which  at  each  end  had  a 
point,  not  unlike  what  nailmakers  call  a  brad^  it  being 


Turtle  Catching. 


2bs 


four-comered,  but  flattish,  and  of  a  shape  somewhat  re 
sembling  the  beak  of  an  ivory-billed  woodpecker,  together 
with  a  neck  and  shoulder.  Between  the  two  shoulders  of 
Ihis  instrument  a  fine  tough  line,  fifty  or  more  fathoms  in 
length,  was  fastened  by  one  end,  being  passed  through  a 
hole  in  the  centre  of  the  peg,  and  the  line  itself  was  care- 
fully coiled  up  and  placed  in  a  convenient  part  of  the 
canoe.  One  extremity  of  this  peg  enters  a  sheath  of  iron 
that  loosely  attaches  it  to  a  long  wooden  spear,  until  a 
turtle  has  l)een  pierced  through  the  shell  by  the  other  ex- 
tremity. He  of  the  canoe  paddles  away  as  silently  as 
possible  whenever  he  espies  a  turtle  basking  on  the  wa- 
ter, until  he  gets  within  a  distance  of  ten  or  twelve  yards, 
when  he  throws  the  spear  so  as  to  hit  the  animal  about 
the  place  which  an  entomologist  would  choose,  were  it  a 
large  insect,  for  pinning  to  a  piece  of  cork.  As  soon  as 
the  turtle  is  struck,  the  wooden  handle  separates  from  the 
peg,  in  consequence  of  the  looseness  of  its  attachment. 
The  smart  of  the  wound  urges  on  the  animal  as  if  dis 
tracted,  and  it  appears  that  the  longer  the  peg  remains  in 
its  shell,  the  more  firmly  fastened  it  is,  so  great  a  pressure 
is  exercised  upon  it  by  the  shell  of  the  turtle,  which  being 
suffered  to  run  like  a  whale,  soon  becomes  fatigued,  and 
is  secured  by  hauling  in  the  line  with  great  care.  In  this 
manner,  as  the  pilot  informed  me,  eight  hundred  green 
turtles  were  caught  by  one  man  in  twelve  months. 

"  Each  turtle  has  its  *  crawl,'  which  is  a  square  wood- 
en building  or  pen,  formed  of  logs,  which  are  so  far  sepa- 
rated as  to  allow  the  tide  to  pass  freely  through,  and 
stand  erect  in  the  mud.  The  turtles  are  placed  in  this 
enclosure,  fed  and  kept  there  till  sold.  There  is,  however, 
a  circumstance  relating  to  their  habits  which  I  cannot 
omit,  although  I  have  it  not  from  my  own  ocular  evidence, 
but  from  report.  When  I  was  in  Florida  several  of  the 
turtlers  assured  me,  that  any  turtle  taken  from  the  depos 


'  1 

'  i'U 


r 


266 


Life  of  Audubon, 


iting  ground,  and  carried  on  the  deck  of  a  vessel  several 
hundred  miles,  would,  if  then  let  loose,  certainly  be  met 
with  at  the  same  spot,  either  immediately  after,  or  in  the 
following  breeding  season.  Should  this  prove  true,  and 
it  certainly  ma}',  how  much  will  be  enhanced  the  belief 
of  the  student  in  the  uniformity  and  solidity  of  nature's 
arrangements,  when  he  finds  that  the  turtle,  like  a  migra- 
tory bird,  returns  to  the  same  locality,  with  perhaps  a  de- 
light similar  to  that  experienced  by  the  traveller  who, 
after  visiting  different  countries,  once  more  returns  to  the 
bosom  of  his  cherished  family." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Ninth  Florida  Episode :  Death  of  a  Pirate. 

N  the  calm  of  i  fine  moonlight  night,  as  I  was 
admiring  the  beauty  of  the  clear  heavens,  and 
the  broad  glare  of  light  that  glanced  from  the 
trembling  surface  of  the  waters  around,  the  officer  on 
watch  came  up  and  entered  into  conversation  with  me. 
He  had  been  a  turtler  in  other  years,  and  a  great  hunter 
to  boot,  and  although  of  humble  birth  and  pretensions, 
energy  and  talent,  aided  by  education,  had  raised  him  to 
a  higher  station.  Such  a  man  could  not  fail  to  be  an 
agreeable  companion,  and  we  talked  on  various  subjects, 
principally,  you  may  be  sure,  birds  and  other  natural  pro- 
ductions. He  told  me  he  once  had  a  disagreeable  ad- 
venture when  looking  for  game,  in  a  certain  cove  on  the 
shores  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  ;  and  on  my  expressing 
a  desire  to  hear  it,  he  willingly  related  to  me  the  follow- 
ing particulars,  which  I  give  you,  not  perhaps  precisely  in 
his  own  words,  but  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember. 

"  Towards  evening,  one  quiet  summer  day,  I  chanced 
to  be  paddling  along  a  sandy  shore,  which  I  thought  well 
fitted  for  my  repose,  being  covered  with  tall  grass,  and  as 
the  sun  was  not  many  degrees  above  the  horizon,  I  felt 
anxious  to  pitch  my  mosquito  bar  or  net,  and  spend  the 
night  in  this  wilderness.  The  bellowing  notes  of  thous- 
ands of  bull-frogs  in  a  neighboring  swamp  might  lull  me 
to  rest,  and  I  looked  upon  the  flocks  of  black-birds  that 
were  assembling  as  sure  companions  in  this  secluded  re- 
treat 


8 '  <,l 


M 


W\n 


■*-  ^-^^-^^ 


,  r  -iK 


268 


Life  of  Audubon, 


|i 


i 


"  I  proceeded  up  a  little  stream  to  insure  the  safety  of 
my  canoe  from  any  sudden  storm,  when,  as  I  gladly  ad« 
/anced,  a  beautiful  yawl  came  unexpectedly  in  view. 
Surprised  at  such  a  sight  in  a  part  of  the  country  then 
scarcely  known,  I  felt  a  sudden  check  in  the  circulation 
of  my  blood.  My  paddle  dropped  from  my  hands,  and 
fearfully  indeed  as  I  picked  it  up,  did  I  look  towards  the 
unknown  boat.  On  reaching  it,  I  saw  its  sides  marked 
with  stains  of  blood,  and  looking  with  anxiety  over  the 
gunwale,  I  perceived  to  my  horror  two  human  bodies  cov- 
ered with  gore.  Pirates  or  '\ostile  Indians  I  was  per- 
suaded had  perpetrated  the  foul  deed,  and  my  alarm 
naturally  increased ;  my  he  ;  fluttered,  stopped  and 
heaved  with  unusual  tremors,  and  I  looked  towards  the 
setting  sun  in  consternation  and  despair.  How  long  my 
reveries  lasted,  I  cannot  t(^ll ;  I  can  only  recollect  that  I 
was  roused  from  them  by  the  distant  groans  of  one  ap- 
parently in  mortal  agony.  I  felt  as  if  refreshed  by  the 
cold  perspiration  that  oozed  from  ev  pore,  and  I  re- 
flected that  though  alone,  I  was  well  armed,  and  might 
hope  for  the  protection  of  the  Almighty. 

"  Humanity  whispered  to  me  that,  if  not  surprised 
and  disabled,  I  might  render  assistance  to  some  sufferer, 
or  even  be  the  means  of  saving  a  useful  life.  Buoyed  up 
by  this  thought,  I  urged  my  canoe  on  shore,  and  seizing 
it  by  the  bow,  pulled  it  at  one  spring  high  among  the 
grass. 

"The  groans  of  the  unfortunate  person  fell  heavy  o» 
my  ear,  as  I  cocked  and  reprimed  my  gim,  and  I  felt  de- 
termined to  shoot  the  first  that  should  rise  from  the  grass. 
As  I  cautiously  proceeded,  a  hand  was  raised  over  the 
weeds,  and  waved  in  the  air  in  the  most  supplicating 
manner.  I  levelled  my  gun  about  a  foot  below  it ;  when 
the  next  moment,  the  head  and  breast  of  a  man  cov- 
ered with  blood  were  convuls'-'elv   nii::i  I,   and   a   fainf 


I  'f 


Death  of  a  Pirate. 


269 


hoarse  voice  asked  me  for  mercy  and  help !  a  death-like 
silence  followed  his  fall  to  the  ground.  I  surveyed  every 
object  around  with  eyes  intent,  and  ears  impressible  by 
the  sligH':est  sound,  for  my  situation  that  moment  I 
thought  as  critical  as  any  I  had  ever  been  in.  The 
croakings  of  the  frogs,  and  the  last  blackbirds  alighting 
on  their  roosts,  were  the  only  sounds  or  sights ;  and  I 
now  proceeded  towards  the  object  of  my  mingled  alariP 
and  commiseration. 

"  Alas  1  the  poor  being  who  lay  prostrate  at  my  feet, 
was  so  weakened  by  loss  of  blood,  that  I  had  nothing  to 
fear  from  him.  My  first  impulse  was  to  run  back  to  the 
water,  and  having  done  so,  I  returned  with  my  cap  filled  to 
the  brim.  I  felt  at  his  heart,  washed  his  face  and  breast, 
and  rubbed  his  temples  with  the  contents  of  a  phial, 
which  I  kept  about  me  as  an  antidote  for  the  bites  of 
snakes.  His  featur;js,  seamed  by  the  ravages  of  time, 
looked  frightful  and  disgusting.  But  he  had  been  a  pow- 
erful man,  as  the  breadth  of  his  breast  plainly  showed. 
He  groaned  in  the  most  appalling  manner,  as  his  breath 
struggled  through  the  mass  of  blood  that  seemed  to  fill 
his  throat.  His  dress  plainly  disclosed  his  occupation — 
a  large  pistol  he  had  thrust  into  his  bosom,  a  naked  cut- 
lass lay  near  him  on  the  ground,  and  a  silk  handkerchief 
was  bound  over  his  projecting  brows,  and  over  a  pair  of 
loose  trousers  he  wore  a  fisherman's  boots.  He  was,  in 
short,  a  Pirate ! 

"  My  exertions  were  irt  in  vain,  for,  as  I  continued  to 
bathe  his  temples,  he  ''-vived,  his  pulse  resumed  some 
strength,  and  I  began  to  hope  that  he  might  perhaps  sur- 
vive the  deep  wounds  which  he  had  received.  Darkness, 
deep  darkness,  now  env^eloped  us.  I  spoke  of  making  a  fire. 
*0h  !  for  mercy's  sake,'  he  exclaimed,  '  don't.'  Knowing, 
however,  that  under  existing  circumstances  it  was  expe- 
dient for  me  to  do  so,  I  left  him,  went  to  his  boat,  and 


■■!■ 


'.    i 


I 


: 


I: 


■ 


m 


'.  i\ 


j4i    i 


270 


Life  of  Au( '  hon. 


brouglit  the  rudder,  the  benches  and  the  oars,  which  with 
my  hatchet  I  soon  splintered.  I  then  struck  a  light,  and 
presently  stood  in  the  glare  of  a  blazing  fire.  The  Pirate 
seemed  struggling  between  terror  and  gratitude  for  my 
assistance ;  he  desired  me  several  times  in  half  English 
and  Spanish  to  put  out  the  flames,  but  after  I  had  given 
him  a  draught  of  strong  spirits,  he  at  length  became 
more  composed.  I  tried  to  staunch  the  blood  that  flowed 
from  the  deep  gashes  in  his  shoulders  and  his  side.  I 
expressed  my  regret  that  I  had  no  food  about  me,  but 
when  I  spoke  of  eating,  he  sullenly  waved  his  head. 

"  My  situation  was  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  that 
I  have  ever  been  placed  in.  I  naturally  turned  my  talk  to- 
wards religious  subjects ;  but,  alas !  the  dying  man  haidly 
believed  in  the  existence  of  a  God.  *  Friend,'  said  he,  '  for 
friend  you  seem  to  be,  I  never  studied  the  ways  of  Him 
of  whom  you  talk.  I  am  an  outlaw,  perhaps  you  will  say 
a  wretch — I  have  been  for  many  years  a  Pirate  The  in- 
structions of  my  parents  were  of  no  avail  to  me,  for  I 
have  always  believed  that  I  was  born  to  be  a  most  cruel 
man.  I  now  lie  here,  about  to  die  in  the  weeds,  because 
I  long  ago  refused  to  listen  to  their  many  admonitions. 
Do  not  shudder,  when  I  tell  you  these  now  useless  hands 
murdered  the  mother  whom  they  had  embraced.  I  feel  that 
I  have  deserved  the  pangs  of  the  wretched  death  that  hov- 
ers over  me ;  and  I  am  thankful  that  one  of  my  kind  will 
alone  witness  my  last  gaspings.'  A  fond  but  feeble  hope 
that  I  might  save  his  life,  and  perhaps  assist  in  procuring 
his  pardon, — 'it  is  all  in  vain,  friend — I  have  no  objection 
to  die — 1  am  glad  that  the  villains  who  wounded  me  were 
not  my  conquerors — I  want  no  pardon  from  any  one — 
give  me  some  water,  and  let  me  die  alone.' 

"  With  the  hope  that  I  might  learn  from  his  conversa 
tion  something  that  might  lead  to  the  capture  of  his 
guilty  associates,  I  retum^'-d  from  the  creek  with  anothei 


41 


Death  of  a  Pit  ate. 


ayi 


cap  full  of  water,  nearly  the  whole  of  which  I  managed 
to  introduce  into  his  parched  mouth,  and  begged  him,  for 
the  sake  of  his  future  peace,  to  disclose  his  history  to  me. 
*  It  is  impossible,*  said  he,  *  there  will  not  be  time,  the 
beatings  of  my  heart  tell  me  so ;  long  before  day,  these 
sinewy  limbs  will  be  motionless  ;  nay,  there  will  hardly  be 
a  drop  of  blood  in  my  body,  and  that  blood  vill  only 
serve  to  make  the  grass  grow.  My  wounds  are  mortal, 
and  I  must  and  will  die  without  what  you  call  confession.' 
The  moon  rose  in  the  east.  The  majesty  of  her  placid 
beauty  impressed  me  with  reverence.  I  pointed  towards 
her,  and  asked  the  Pirate  if  he  could  not  recognize  God's 
features  there.  *  Friend,  I  see  what  you  are  driving  at,' 
was  his  answer,  *  you,  like  the  rest  of  our  enemies,  feel 
the  desire  of  murdering  us  all — well — be  it  so — to  die  is 
after  all  nothing  more  than  a  jest ;  and  were  it  not  for  the 
pain,  no  one,  in  my  opinion,  need  care  a  jot  about  it. 
But  as  you  really  have  befriended  me,  I  will  tell  you  all 
that  is  proper.* 

"  Hoping  his  mind  might  take  a  useful  turn,  I  again 
bathed  his  temples  and  washed  his  lips  with  spirits.  His 
sunk  eyes  seemed  to  dart  fire  at  mine,  a  heavy  and  deep 
sigh  swelled  his  chest  and  struggled  through  his  blood- 
choked  throat,  and  he  asked  me  to  raise  him  a  little.  I 
did  so,  when  he  addressed  me  somewhat  as  follows,  for, 
as  I  have  told  you,  his  speech  was  a  mixture  of  Spanish, 
French  and  English,  forming  a  jargon  the  like  of  which 
I  had  never  heard  before,  and  which  I  am  utterly  unable 
to  imitate.  However,  I  shall  give  you  the  substance  of 
his  declaration. 

"  *  First  tell  me  how  many  bodies  you  found  in  tlie 
boat,  and  what  sort  of  dresses  ihcy  had  on.'  I  mention- 
ed their  number  and  described  their  apparel.  'That's 
right,'  said  he,  '  they  are  the  bodies  of  the  scoundrels  who 
followed  me  in  that  infernal  Yankee  Barge.     Bold  rascal: 


■'i 


:    I 


1  m 


^11 


Mf 


"! ;. 


272 


Life  of  Audubon, 


IM  . 

SH 

i 

iH^ 

they  were,  for  when  they  found  the  water  too  shallow  foi 
their  craft,  they  took  to  it  and  waded  after  me.  All  my 
companions  had  been  shot,  and  to  lighten  my  own  boat 
I  flung  them  overboard ;  but  as  I  lost  time  in  this, 
»he  two  ruffians  caught  hold  of  my  gunwale,  and  struck 
on  my  head  and  body  in  such  a  manner,  that  after  I  had 
disabled  and  killed  them  both  in  the  boat,  I  was  scarcely 
able  to  move.  The  other  villains  carried  off  our  schoon- 
er and  one  of  our  boats,  and  perhaps,  ere  now,  have  hung 
ail  my  companions  whom  they  did  not  kill  at  the  time. 
I  have  commanded  my  beautiiiil  vessel  many  years,  cap- 
tured many  ships,  and  sent  many  rascals  to  the  devil.  I 
always  hated  the  Yankees,  and  only  regret  that  I  have 
not  killed  more  of  them.  I  sailed  from  Mantanzas.  I 
have  often  been  in  concert  with  others.  I  have  money 
without  counting,  but  it  is  buried  where  it  will  never  be 
found,  and  it  would  be  useless  to  tell  you  of  it.'  His 
throat  filled  with  blood,  his  voice  failed,  the  cold  hand  of 
death  was  laid  on  his  brow  ;  feebly  and  horribly  he  mut- 
tered, *  I  am  dying,  man,  farewell.' 

"Alasl  ills  painful  to  see  death  in  any  shape;  in 
this  it  was  horrible,  for  there  was  no  hope.  The  rattling 
of  his  throat  announced  the  moment  of  dissolution,  and 
already  did  the  body  fall  on  my  arms  with  a  weight  that 
was  insupportable.  I  laid  him  on  the  ground.  A  mass 
of  dark  blcx)d  poured  from  his  mouth ;  then  came  a 
frightful  groan,  the  last  breathing  of  that  foul  spirit ;  and 
what  now  lay  at  my  feet  in  tlie  wild  desert  was  a  mangled 
mass  of  clay. 

**  The  remainder  of  the  night  was  passed  in  no  envi- 
able mood  ;  but  my  feelings  cannot  be  described.  At 
dawn  I  dug  a  hole  with  the  paddle  of  my  canoe,  rolled 
the  body  into  it  and  covered  it.  On  reaching  the  boat,  I 
found  several  buzzards  feeding  on  the  bodies,  which  I  in 
vain  attempted  to  drag  to  the  shore.     I  therefore  covered 


Death  of  a  Pirate, 


^73 


them  with  mud  and  weeds,  and  launching  my  canoe,  pad- 
Jled  from  the  cove,  with  a  secret  joy  for  my  escape, 
overshaded  with  the  gloom  of  mingled  dread  and 
horror. ' 


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CHAP! EH  XXIIl. 

In  America  :  Episode  in  New  Brunswick, 

N  the  beginning  of  August,  Audubon,  accompa- 
nied by  his  wife  and  two  sons,  went  on  a  jour- 
ney to  the  State  of  Maine,  to  examine  the  birda 
in  the  most  unfrequented  parts ;  and  the  following  epi- 
sodes contain  the  naturalist's  own  summary  of  that  visit. 
They  travelled  in  a  private  conveyance  through  Maine, 
going  towards  the  British  provinces,  and  the  country  was 
explored  at  leisure  as  they  travelled. 

Journey  in  New  Brunswick. 

"  The  morning  after  that  we  had  spent  with  Sir  Arch- 
ibald Campbell  and  his  delightful  family,  saw  us  proceed- 
ing along  the  shores  of  St.  John's  River  in  the  British 
province  of  New  Brunswick.  As  we  passed  the  govern- 
ment house  our  hearts  bade  its  generous  inmates  adieu ; 
and  as  we  left  Frederickton  behind,  the  recollection  of 
the  many  acts  of  kindness  which  we  had  received  from  its 
inhabitants  came  powerfully  on  our  minds.  Slowly  ad- 
vancing over  the  surface  of  the  translucent  stream,  we 
still  fancied  our  ears  saluted  by  the  melodies  of  the  un- 
rivalled band  of  the  43d  Regiment.  In  short,  with  the 
remembrance  of  the  kindness  experienced,  the  feeling  of 
expectations  gratified,  the  hope  of  adding  to  our  knowl- 
edge, and  the  possession  of  health  and  vigor,  we  were 
luxuriating  in  happiness.  The  Favorite,  the  bark  in  which 
we  were,  contained  not  only  my  family,  but  nearly  a  score 
find  a  half  of  individuals  of  all  descriptions ;  so  that  the 


f 

,1     . 


the  St.  Johns  River. 


^75 


crowded  state  of  her  cabin  soon  began  to  prove  rathei 
disagreeable.  The  boat  itself  was  a  mere  scow,  comman- 
ded by  a  person  of  rather  uncouth  aspect  and  rude  n^  m« 
ners.  Two  sorry  nags  he  had  fastened  to  the  end  of  a 
long  tow-line,  on  the  nearer  of  which  rode  a  nc);ro  youth 
less  than  half  clad,  with  a  long  switch  in  one  hand  and 
the  joined  bridles  in  the  other,  stri\  ng  with  all  his  might 
to  urge  them  on  at  the  rate  of  souicthing  more  than  two 
miles  an  hour.  How  fortunate  it  is  for  one  to  possess  a 
little  knowledge  of  a  true  traveller!  Following  the  ad- 
vice of  a  good,  and  somewhat  aged  one,  we  had  provided 
ourselves  with  a  large  basket,  which  was  not  altogether 
empty  when  we  reached  the  end  of  our  agreeable  excur- 
sion. Here  and  there  the  shores  ut  the  river  were  beau- 
tiful ;  the  space  between  it  and  the  undulating  hills  that 
bounded  the  prospect  being  highly  cultivated,  while  now 
and  then  its  abrupt  and  rocky  banks  assumed  a  most 
picturesque  appearance.  Although  it  was  late  in  Sep- 
tember, the  mowers  were  still  engaged  in  cutting  the  grass, 
and  the  gardens  of  the  farmers  showed  patches  of  green 
peas.  The  apples  were  yet  green,  and  the  vegetation  in 
genera!  reminded  us  that  we  were  in  a  northern  latitude. 
Gradually  and  slowly  we  proceeded,  until  in  the  afternoon 
we  landed  to  exchange  our  jaded  horses.  We  saw  a 
house  on  an  eminence,  with  groups  of  people  assembled 
around  it,  but  no  dinner  could  be  obtained,  because,  as 
the  landlord  told  us,  an  election  was  going  on.  So  we 
had  recourse  to  the  basket,  and  on  the  green  sward  we 
refreshed  ourselves  with  its  contents.  This  done,  we  re- 
turned to  the  scow,  and  resumed  our  stations.  As  is 
usual  in  such  cases,  in  every  part  of  the  world  that  I  have 
visited,  our  second  set  of  horses  was  worse  than  the  first. 
However,  on  we  went ;  but  to  tell  you  how  often  the  tow- 
line  gave  way  would  not  be  more  amusing  to  you  than  it 
was  annoying  to  us.     Once  our  commander  was  in  con- 


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276 


Life  of  Audubon. 


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sequence  plunged  into  the  stream,  but  after  some  exeition 
he  succeeded  in  gaining  his  gallant  bark,  when  he  con- 
soled himself  by  giving  utterance  to  a  volley  of  blasphe 
mies,  which  it  would  111  become  me  to  repeat,  as  it  would 
be  disagreeable  to  you  to  hear.  We  slept  somewhere 
that  night ;  it  does  not  suit  my  views  to  tell  you  where. 
Before  day  returned  to  smile  on  the  Favorite,  we  pro- 
ceeded. Soon  we  came  to  some  rapids,  when  every  one, 
glad  to  assist  her,  leaped  on  shore,  and  tugged  i  /<^  cordelle. 
Some  miles  further  we  passed  a  curious  cataract,  formed 
by  the  waters  of  the  Pokioke. 

"  There  Sambo  led  his  steeds  up  the  sides  of  a  high 
bank,  when,  lo!  the  whole  party  came  tumbling  down 
like  so  many  hogsheads  of  tobacco  rolled  from  a  store- 
house to  the  banks  of  the  Ohio.  He  at  the  steering  oar, 
*  Hoped  the  black  rascal  had  broken  his  neck,'  and  con- 
gratulated himself  in  the  same  breath  for  the  safety  of  his 
horses,  which  presently  got  on  their  feet.  Sambo,  how- 
ever, alert  as  an  Indian  chief,  leaped  on  the  naked  back 
of  one,  and,  showing  his  teeth,  laughed  at  his  master's 
curses.  Shortly  after  this,  we  found  our  boat  very  snug- 
ly secured  on  the  top  of  a  rock,  midway  in  the  stream, 
just  opposite  the  moufu  of  Eel  River.  Next  day  at  noon 
— none  injured,  but  all  chop-fallen — we  were  landed  at 
Woodstock  Village,  yet  in  its  infancy.  After  dining 
there,  we  procured  a  cart  and  an  excellent  driver,  and 
proceeded  along  an  execrable  road  towards  Houlton,  in 
Maine,  glad  enough,  after  all  our  mishaps,  at  finding  our- 
selves in  our  own  country.  But  before  I  bid  farewell  to 
the  beautiful  river  of  St.  John,  I  must  tell  you  that  its 
navigation  seldom  exceeds  eight  months  each  year,  the 
passage  during  the  rest  being  performed  on  the  ice,  of 
which  we  were  told  that  last  season  there  was  an  unusual 
quantity;  so  much  indeed  as  tc  accumulate,  by  being 
jammed  at  particular  spots,  to  the  height' of  nearly  fifty 


VM:: 


From  Bangor  to  Houlton. 


277 


feet  above  the  ordinary  level  of  the  river,  and  that  when 
it  broke  loose  in  the  spring  the  crash  was  awful.  All  the 
low  grounds  along  the  river  were  suddenly  flooded,  and 
even  the  elevated  plain  on  which  Frederickton  stands 
was  covered  to  the  depth  of  four  feet.  Fortunately,  how- 
ever, as  on  the  greater  streams  of  the  Western  and  South- 
ern districts,  such  an  OLnurrence  seldom  takes  place. 

"  Major  Clarke,  commander  of  the  United  States  gar- 
rison, received  us  with  remarkable  kindness.  The  next 
day  was  spent  in  a  long,  though  fruitless,  ornithological 
excursion  ;  for  although  we  were  accompanied  by  officers 
and  men  from  the  garrison,  not  a  bird  did  any  of  our 
party  procure  that  was  of  any  use  to  us.  We  remained  a 
few  days,  however  ;  after  which,  hiring  a  cart,  two  horses, 
and  a  driver,  we  pioceeded  in  the  direction  of  Bangor. 
Houlton  is  a  neat  village,  consisting  of  some  fifty  houses. 
The  fort  is  well  situated,  and  commands  a  fine  view  of 
Mars  Hill,  which  is  about  thirteen  miles  distant.  A  cus- 
tom-house has  been  erected  here,  the  place  being  on  the 
boundary  line  of  the  United  States  and  the  British  prov- 
inces. The  road,  which  was  cut  by  the  soldiers  of  this 
garrison,  from  Bangor  to  Houlton,  through  the  forests,  is 
at  this  moment  a  fine  turnpike  of  great  breadth,  almost 
straight  in  its  whole  length,  and  perhaps  the  best  now  in 
the  Union.  It  was  incomplete,  however,  for  some  miles, 
so  that  our  travelling  over  that  portion  was  slow  and  dis- 
agreeable. The  rain,  which  fell  in  tcfrrents,  reduced  the, 
newly-raised  earth  to  a  complete  bed  of  mud ;  and  at  one 
time  our  horses  became  so  completely  mired  that,  had 
we  not  been  extricated  by  two  oxen,  v/e  must  have  spent 
the  night  near  the  spot.  Jogging  along  at  a  very  slow 
pace,  we  were  overtaken  by  a  gay  waggoner,  who  had  ex- 
cellent horses,  two  of  which  a  little  '  siller  '  induced  him 
to  join  to  ours,  and  we  were  taken  to  a  tavern  at  the 
'cross  roads,'  where  we  spent    the    night  in    comfort 


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■■■ 


278 


Life  of  Audubon, 


r 


'J' 


,r 


While  supper  was  preparing,  I  made  inquiry  respecting 
birds,  quadrupeds,  and  fishes,  and  was  pleased  to  hear 
that  all  of  these  animals  abounded  in  the  neighborhood. 
Deer,  bears,  trouts,  and  grouse,  were  quite  plentiful,  as 
was  the  great  gray  owl.  When  we  resumed  our  journej 
next  morning  Nature  displayed  all  her  loveliness,  and 
autumn,  with  her  mellow  tints,  her  glowing  fruits,  and 
her  rich  fields  of  corn,  smiled  in  placid  beauty.  Many 
of  the  fields  had  not  yet  been  reaped ;  the  fruits  of  the 
forests  and  orchards  hung  clustering  around  us  j  and  as 
we  came  in  view  of  the  Penobscot  River,  our  hearts 
thrilled  with  joy.  Its  broad  transparent  waters  here 
spread  out  their  unruffled  surface,  there  danced  along  the 
rapids,  while  canoes  filled  with  Indians  swiftly  glided  in 
every  direction,  raising  before  them  the  timorous  water- 
fowl, that  had  already  flocked  in  from  the  north.  Moun- 
tains which  you  well  know  are  indispensable  in  a  beauti- 
ful landscape,  reared  their  majestic  crests  in  the  distance. 
The  Canada  jay  leaped  gayly  from  branch  to  twig ;  the 
kingfisher,  as  if  vexed  at  being  suddenly  surprised,  rat- 
tled loudly  as  it  swiftly  flew  off;  and  the  fish-hawk  and 
eagle  spread  their  broad  wings  over  the  waters.  All 
around  was  beautiful,  and  we  gazed  on  the  scene  with  de- 
light as,  seated  on  a  verdant  bank,  we  refreshed  our 
frames  from  our  replenished  stores.  A  few  rare  birds 
were  procured  here,  and  the  rest  of  the  road  being  level 
and  firm,  we  trotted  on  at  a  good  pace  for  several  hours, 
the  Penobscot  keeping  company  with  us.  Now  we  c^me 
to  a  deep  creek,  of  which  the  bridge  was  undergoing  re- 
pairs, and  the  people  saw  our  vehicle  approach  with  much 
surprise.  They,  however,  assisted  us  with  pleasure,  by 
placing  a  few  logs  across,  along  which  our  horses,  one 
after  the  other,  were  carefully  led,  and  the  cart  afterwards 
carried.  These  good  fellows  were  so  averse  to  our  rec- 
ompensing them  for  their  labor  that,  after  some  alterca 


Looking  for  Lumhcy  Lands. 


279 


tion,  we  were  obliged  absolutely  to  loice  what  we  deemea 
a  suitable  reward  upon  them.  Next  day  we  continued 
our  journey  along  the  Penobscot,  the  country  changing 
its  aspect  at  every  mile  j  and  when  we  first  descried  Old 
Town,  that  village  of  saw-mills  looked  like  an  island  cov- 
eied  with  manufactories.  The  people  are  noted  for  their 
industry  and  perseverance ;  any  one  possessing  a  mill,  and 
attending  to  his  saws  and  the  floating  of  the  timber  into 
his  dams,  is  sure  to  obtain  a  competency  in  a  few  years. 

"  Speculations  in  land  covered  with  pine,  lying  to  the 
north  of  this  place,  are  carried  on  to  a  great  extent,  and 
to  discover  a  good  tract  of  such  ground  many  a  miller  of 
Old  Town  undertakes  long  journeys.  Reader,  with  your 
leave,  I  will  here  introduce  one  of  them. 

"  Gook  luck  brought  us  into  acquaintance  with  Mr. 
Gillies,  whom  we  happened  to  meet  in  the  course  of  our 
travels,  as  he  was  returning  from  an  exploring  tour. 
About  the  first  of  August  he  formed  a  party  of  sixteen 
persons,  each  carrying  a  knapsack  and  an  axe.  Their 
provisions  consisted  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of 
pilot  bread,  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of  salted  pork, 
four  pounds  of  tea,  two  large  loaves  of  sugar,  and  some 
salt.  They  embarked  in  light  canoes,  twelve  miles  north 
of  Bangor,  and  followed  the  Penobscot  as  far  as  Wassa- 
taquoik  R'  /er,  a  branch  leading  to  the  north-west,  until 
they  reached  the  Sebois  Lakes,  the  principal  of  which  lie 
in  a  line,  with  short  portages  between  them.  Still  pro- 
ceeding north-west,  they  navigated  these  lakes,  and  then 
turning  west,  carried  their  canoes  to  the  great  lake 
'  Baamchenunsgamook  ;'  thence  north  to  *  Wallaghasque- 
gamook  '  Lake  ;  then  along  a  small  stream  to  the  upper 
'  Urasaskis "  Pond,  when  they  reached  the  Alleguash 
River,  which  leads  into  the  St.  John's,  in  about  latitude 
47°  3'.  Many  portions  of  that  country  had  not  been  vis- 
ited before  even  by  the  Indians,  who  assured  Mr.  Gillies 


¥'\ 


liit'iuJi 


I 


280 


Life  of  Audubon. 


\ 


I 


:  .1 : 


of  this  fact.  They  continued  their  travels  down  the  St 
John's  to  the  grand  falls,  where  they  met  with  a  portage 
of  half  a  mile,  and,  having  reached  Medux-mekcag 
Creek,  a  little  above  Woodstock,  the  party  w  ilked  to 
Huulton,  having  travelled  twelve  hundred  miles,  and  de- 
scribed almost  an  oval  over  the  country  by  the  time  they 
returned  to  Old  Town  on  the  Penobscot.  While  anx- 
iously looking  for  *  lumber  lands,'  they  ascended  the  emi- 
nences around,  then  climbed  the  tallest  trees,  and,  by 
means  of  a  great  telescope,  inspected  the  pine  woods  in 
the  distance.  And  such  excellent  judges  are  these  per- 
sons of  the  value  of  the  timber  which  they  thus  observe, 
when  it  is  situated  at  a  convenient  distance  from  water, 
that  they  never  afterwards  forget  the  different  spots  at  all 
worthy  of  their  attention.  They  had  observed  only  a  few 
birds  and  quadrupeds,  the  latter  principally  porcupines. 
The  borders  of  the  lakes  and  rivers  afforded  them  fruits 
of  various  sorts,  and  abundance  of  cranberries,  while  the 
uplands  yielded  plenty  of  wild  white  onions  and  a  species 
of  black  plum.  Some  of  the  party  continued  their  jour- 
ney in  canoes  down  the  St.  John's,  ascended  Eel  River, 
and  the  lake  of  the  same  name  to  Mattawamkeag  River 
due  south-west  of  the  St.  John's,  and,  after  a  few  por- 
tages, fell  into  the  Penobscot.  I  had  made  arrangements 
to  accompany  Mr.  Gillies  on  a  journey  of  this  kind,  when 
I  judged  it  would  be  more  interesting,  as  well  as  useful 
to  me,  to  visit  the  distant  country  of  Labrador. 

"The  road  which  we  followed  from  Old  Town  to 
Bangor  was  literally  covered  with  Penobscot  Indians  re- 
turning from  market.  On  reaching  the  latter  beautiful 
town,  we  found  very  comfortable  lodgings  in  an  excellent 
hotel,  and  next  day  proceeded  by  the  mail  to  Boston." 

The  following  chapter  gives  some  further  knowledge 
of  what  Audubon  saw  during  his  journey  through  the  in- 
terior of  Maine. 


'm  i-m 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Episodes  in  Maine:  The  Maine  Lumbermen, 

HE  men  who  are  employed  in  cutting  down  the 
trees,  and  conveying  the  logs  to  the  saw-mills  oi 
the  places  for  shipping,  are,  in  the  State  of 
Maine,  called  '  lumberers.'  Their  labors  may  be  said  to 
begin  before  winter  has  commenced,  and,  while  the 
ground  is  yet  uncovered  by  any  great  depth  of  snow,  they 
leave  their  homes  to  proceed  to  the  interior  of  the  pine 
forests,  which  in  that  part  of  the  country  are  truly  mag- 
nificent, and  betake  themselves  to  certain  places  already 
well  known  to  them.  Their  provisions,  axes,  saws,  and 
other  necessary  articles,  together  with  the  provender  for 
their  cattle,  are  conveyed  by  oxen  on  heavy  sleds.  Al- 
most at  the  commencement  of  their  march  they  are 
obliged  to  enter  the  woods  ;  and  they  have  frequently  to 
cut  a  way  for  themselves  for  considerable  spaces,  as  the 
ground  is  often  covered  with  the  decaying  trunks  of  im- 
mense trees,  which  have  fallen  either  from  age  or  in  con- 
sequence of  accidental  burnings.  These  trunks,  and  the 
undergrowth  which  lies  entangled  in  their  tops,  render 
many  places  almost  impassable  even  to  men  on  foot 
Over  miry  ponds  they  are  sometimes  forced  to  form 
causeways,  this  being,  under  all  the  circumstances,  the 
easiest  mode  of  reaching  the  opposite  side.  Then,  read- 
er, is  the  tim  j  for  witnessing  the  exertions  of  their  fine 
large  cattle.  No  rods  do  their  drivers  use  to  pain  their 
flanks  ;  no  oaths  or  imprecations  are  ever  heard  to  fall 
from  the  lips  of  these  most  industrious  and  temperate 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


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men ;  for  in  them,  as  indeed  in  most  of  the  inhabitants  of 
our  Eastern  States,  education  and  habit  have  tempered 
the  passions  and  reduced  the  moral  constitution  to  a 
state  of  harmony — nay,  the  sobriety  that  exists  in  manj 
("f  the  villages  of  Maine  I  have  often  considered  as  car- 
ried to  excess,  for  on  asking  for  brandy,  rum,  or  whiskey, 
not  a  drop  could  I  obtain  \  and  it  is  probable  there  was 
zxi  equal  lack  of  spirituous  liquors  of  every  other  kind. 
Now  and  then  I  saw  some  good  old  wines,  but  they  were 
always  drunk  in  careful  moderation.  But  to  return  to 
the  management  of  the  oxen.  Why,  reader,  the  lumber- 
ers speak  to  them  as  if  they  were  rational  beings  :  few 
words  seem  to  suffice,  and  their  whole  strength  is  applied 
to  the  labor,  as  if  in  gratitude  to  those  who  treat  them 
with  so  much  gentleness  and  humanity. 

"  While  present,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  at  what 
Americans  'call  ploughing  matches,'  which  they  have  an- 
nually in  many  of  the  States,  I  have  been  highly  gratified, 
and  in  particular  at  one — of  which  I  still  have  a  strong 
recollection, — and  which  took  place  a  few  miles  from  the 
fair  and  hospitable  city  of  Boston.  There  I  saw  fifty  or 
more  ploughs  drawn  by  as  many  pairs  of  oxen,  which  per- 
formed their  work  with  so  much  accuracy  and  regularity, 
without  the  infliction  of  whip  or  rod,  but  merely  guided 
by  the  verbal  mandates  of  the  ploughmen,  that  I  was  per- 
fectly astonished. 

'*  After  surmounting  all  obstacles,  the  lumberers,  with  the 
stock  they  have  provided,  arrive  at  the  spot  which  they 
have  had  in  view,  and  immediately  commence  building  a 
camp.  The  trees  around  soon  fall  under  the  blows  of 
their  axes,  and,  before  many  days  have  elapsed,  a  low 
habitation  is  reared  and  fitted  within  for  the  accommoda- 
tion of  their  cattle,  while  their  provender  is  secured  on  a 
kind  of  loft,  covered  with  broad  shinflcs  or  boards.  Then 
their  own  cabin  is  put  up ;  rough  bedsteads,  manufactured 


•» 


PTood  Cutting  in  Winter, 


28': 


on  the  spot,  are  fixed  in  the  comers ;  a  chimney,  com- 
posed of  a  frame  of  slicks  plastered  with  mud,  leads  away 
the  smoke  ;  the  skins  of  bears  or  deer,  with  some  blankets, 
form  their  bedding ;  and  around  the  walls  are  hung  theii 
changes  of  homespun  clothing,  guns,  and  various  neces 
saries  of  life.  Many  prefer  spending  the  night  en  the 
sweet-scented  hay  and  corn  blades  of  their  cattle,  which 
are  laid  on  the  ground.  All  arranged  within,  the  lumber- 
ers set  around  their  camp  their  *  dead  falls,'  large  '  steel 
traps,'  and  *  spring  guns,'  in  suitable  places  to  procure 
some  of  the  bears  that  ever  prowl  around  such  establish- 
ments. Now  the  heavy  clouds  of  November,  driven  by 
the  northern  blast,  pour  down  the  snow  in  feathery  flakes. 
The  winter  has  fairly  set  in,  and  seldom  do  the  sun's  glad- 
dening rays  fall  on  the  woodcutter's  hut.  In  warm  flan- 
nels his  body  is  enveloped,  the  skin  of  a  racoon  covers 
his  head  and  brow,  his  moose-skin  leggings  reach  the 
girdle  that  secures  them  round  his  waist,  while  on  broad 
moccasins,  or  snow-shoes,  he  stands  from  the  earliest  dawn 
till  night  hacking  away  at  the  majestic  pines  that  for  a 
century  past  have  embellished  the  forest.  The  fall  of 
these  valuable  trees  no  longer  resounds  on  the  ground  ; 
and  as  they  tumble  here  and  there,  nothing  is  heard  but 
the  rustling  and  crackling  of  their  branches,  their  heavy 
trunks  sinking  into  the  deep  snow.  Thousands  of  large 
pines  thus  cut  down  every  winter  afford  room  for  the 
younger  trees,  which  spring  up  profusely  to  supply  the 
wants  of  man.  Weeks  and  weeks  have  elapsed,  the  earth's 
pure  white  covering  has  become  thickly  and  firmly  crusted 
by  the  increasing  intensity  of  the  cold,  the  fallen  tiees 
have  all  been  sawn  into  measured  logs,  and  the  long  re- 
pose of  the  oxen  has  fitted  them  for  hauling  them  to  the 
nearest  frozen  stream.  The  ice  gradually  becomes  cov- 
ered with  the  accumulating  mass  of  timber,  and  their  task 
completed,  the  lumberers  wait  impatiently  for  the  break* 


1  I 


'% 


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jif 

■A. 


'  Pi- 

'  :|lit 


1      !•. 


284 


Life  of  Audubon. 


\  i 


W" 


i.  ■ 

I- 


ing  up  of  winter.  At  this  period  they  pass  the  time  in 
hunting  the  moose,  the  deer  and  the  bear,  for  the  benefit 
of  their  wives  and  children ;  and  as  these  men  are  most 
excellent  woodsmen,  great  havoc  is  made  among  the 
game  ;  many  skins,  sables,  martins  and  muskrats,  they 
have  procured  during  the  intervals  of  their  labor,  or  un- 
der night.  The  snows  are  now  giving  way  as  the  rains 
descend  in  torrents,  and  the  lumberers  collect  their  uten- 
sils, harness  their  cattle,  and  prepare  for  their  return. 
This  they  accomplish  in  safety.  From  being  lumberers, 
they  become  millers,  and  with  pleasure  each  applies  the  gra- 
ting file  to  his  saws.  Many  logs  have  already  reached  the 
dams  on  the  swollen  waters  of  the  rushing  streams,  and  the 
task  commences,  which  is  carried  on  through  the  sum- 
mer, of  cutting  them  up  into  boards.  The  great  heat  of 
the  dog-days  has  parched  the  ground  j  every  creek  has 
become  a  shallow,  except  here  and  there  where,  in  a  deep 
hole,  the  salmon  and  the  trout  have  found  a  retreat :  the 
sharp  slimy  angles  of  multitudes  of  rocks  project,  as  if  to 
afford  resting-places  to  the  wood-ducks  and  herons  that 
breed  on  the  borders  of  these  streams.  Thousands  of 
'  saw-logs '  remain  in  every  pool,  beneath  and  above 
each  rapid  or  fall.  The  miller's  dam  has  been  emptied 
of  its  timber,  and  he  must  now  resort  to  some  expedient 
to  procure  a  fresh  supply.  It  was  my  good  fortune  to 
witness  the  method  employed  for  the  purpose  of  collecting 
the  logs  that  had  not  reached  their  destination,  and  I 
had  the  more  pleasure  that  it  was  seen  in  company  with 
my  little  family.  I  wish,  for  your  sake,  reader,  that  I 
could  describe  in  an  adequate  manner  the  scene  which 
I  viewed ;  but  although  not  so  well  qualified  as  I  could 
wish,  rely  upon  it  that  the  desire  which  I  feel  to  gratify 
you  will  induce  me  to  use  all  my  endeavors  to  give  you 
an  idea  of  it.     It  was  the  month  of  September. 

"  At  the  upper  extremity  of  Dennisville,  which  is  it 


Starting  the  Logs, 


285 


self  a  pretty  village,  are  the  saw-mills  and  ponds  of  the 
hospitable  Judge  Lincoln  and  other  persons.  The  creek 
that  conveys  the  logs  to  these  ponds,  and  which  bears  the 
name  of  the  village,  is  interrupted  in  its  course  by  manj 
rapids  and  narrow  embanked  gorges.  One  of  the  latter 
is  situated  about  half  a  mile  above  the  mill-dam,  and  is  so 
rocky  and  rugged  in  the  bottom  and  sides  as  to  preclude 
the  possibility  of  the  trees  passing  along  it  at  low  water, 
while,  as  I  conceived,  it  would  have  given  no  slight  labor 
to  an  army  of  woodsmen  or  millers  to  move  the  thousands 
of  large  logs  that  had  accumulated  in  it.  They  lay  piled  in 
confused  heaps  to  a  great  height  along  an  extent  of  sev- 
eral hundred  yards,  and  were  in  some  places  so  close  as  to 
have  formed  a  kind  of  dam.  Above  the  gorge  there  is  a 
large  natural  reservoir,  in  which  the  headwaters  of  the 
creek  settle,  while  only  a  small  portion  of  these  ripple 
through  the  gorge  below,  during  the  latter  weeks  of  sum- 
mer and  in  early  autumn,  when  their  streams  are  at  the 
lowest.  At  the  neck  of  this  basin  the  lumberers  raised  a 
tempprary  barrier  with  the  refuse  of  their  sav/n  logs.  The 
boards  were  planted  nearly  upright,  and  supported  at 
their  tops  by  a  strong  tree  extended  from  side  to  side 
of  the  creek,  which  might  there  be  about  forty  feet  n 
breadth.  It  was  prevented  from  giving  way  under  the 
pressure  of  the  rising  waters  by  having  strong  abutments 
of  wood  laid  against  its  centre,  while  the  ends  of  these 
abutments  were  secured  by  wedges,  which  could  be 
knocked  off  when  necessary.  The  temporary  dam  was 
now  finished.  Little  or  no  water  escaped  through  the 
barrier,  and  that  in  the  creek  above  it  rose  in  the  course 
of  three  weeks  to  its  top,  which  was  about  ten  feet  high, 
forming  a  sheet  that  extended  upwards  fully  a  mile  from 
the  dam.  My  family  were  invited  early  one  morning  to 
go  and  witness  the  extraordinary  effect  which  would  e 
produced  by  the  breaking  down  of  the  barrier,  and  we  all 


'i        I 


!     t 


\il% 


w 


i 


M 


. 


V' 


i-i 


hi 


i ". 


■ ''  '■■  hi 

11 

a86 


Zi^<?  of  /iudubon. 


accompanied  the  lumberers  to  the  place.  Two  of  tht 
men,  on  reaching  it,  threw  off  their  jackets,  tied  hand- 
kerchiefs round  their  heads,  and  fastened  to  their  bodies 
a  long  rope,  the  end  of  which  was  held  by  three  or  four 
others,  who  stood  ready  to  drag  their  companions  ashore, 
in  case  of  danger  or  accident.  The  two  operators,  each 
bearing  an  axe,  walked  along  the  abutments,  and,  at  a 
given  signal,  knocked  out  the  wedges.  A  second  blow 
from  each  sent  off  the  abutments  themselves,  and  the  men, 
leaping  with  extreme  dexerity  from  one  cross-log  to  an- 
other, sprung  to  the  shore  with  almost  the  quickness  of 
thought.  Scarcely  had  they  effected  their  escape  from 
the  frightful  peril  that  threaten^a  them,  when  the  mass  of 
waters  burst  forth  with  a  horrible  uproar.  All  eyes  were 
bent  towards  the  huge  heaps  of  logs  in  the  gorge  below. 
The  tumultuous  burst  of  the  waters  instantly  swept  away 
every  object  that  opposed  their  progress,  and  rushed  in 
foaming  waves  among  the  timber  that  everywhere  blocked 
up  the  passage.  Presently  a  slow  heavy  motion  was  per- 
ceived in  the  mass  of  logs  3  one  might  have  imagined  that 
some  mighty  monster  lay  convulsively  writhing  beneath 
them,  struggling,  with  a  fearful  energy,  to  extricate  him- 
self from  the  crushing  weight.  As  the  waters  rose  this 
movement  increased  ;  the  mass  of  timber  extended  in  all 
directions,  appearing  to  become  more  and  more  en- 
tangled each  moment  j  the  logs  bounced  against  each 
other,  thrusting  aside,  submerging  or  raising  into  the  air, 
those  with  which  they  came  in  contact.  It  seemed  as  if 
they  were  waging  a  war  of  destruction,  such  as  the 
ancient  authors  describe  the  efforts  of  the  Titans,  the 
foaming  of  whose  wrath  might,  to  the  eye  of  the  painter, 
have  been  represented  by  the  angry  curlings  of  the  wa- 
ters, while  the  tremulous  and  rapid  motions  of  the  logs, 
which  at  times  reared  themselves  almost  perpendicularly, 
might  by  the  poet  have  been  taken  for  the  shakings  of 


l!he  Force  of  the  Waters. 


287 


the  confounded  and  discomfited  giants.  Now  the  rush 
ing  element  filled  up  the  gorge  to  the  brim.  The  logs, 
once  under  way,  rolled,  reared,  tossed,  and  tumbled  amid 
the  foam,  as  they  were  carried  along.  Many  of  the  small- 
er trees  broke  across  \  from  others,  great  splintirs  were 
sent  up,  and  all  were  in  some  degree  seamed  and  scarred 
Then,  in  tumultuous  majesty,  swept  along  the  mangled 
wreck  :  the  current  being  now  increased  to  such  a  pitch, 
that  the  logs,  as  they  were  dashed  against  the  rocky 
shores,  resounded  like  the  report  of  distant  artillery,  01 
the  rumblings  of  the  thunder.  Onward  it  rolls,  the  em- 
blem of  wreck  and  ruin,  destruction  and  chaotic  strife. 
It  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  witnessed  the  rout  of  a  rash 
army,  surprised,  overwhelmed,  and  overthrown  :  the  roar 
of  the  cannon,  the  groans  of  the  dying,  and  the  shouts  of 
the  avengers,  were  thundering  through  my  brain  ;  and 
amid  the  frightful  confusion  of  the  scene  there  came  over 
my  spirit  a  melancholy  feeling,  which  had  not  entirely 
vanished  at  the  end  of  many  days.  In  a  few  hours  al- 
most all  the  timber  that  had  lain  heaped  in  the  rocky 
gorge  was  floating  in  the  great  pond  of  the  millers,  and 
as  we  walked  homewards  we  talked  of  i)a&  force  of  the 
waters** 


;'l 

m 


k 


i  :,  ■     I 


\m 


■4 


K. 


,1 


I  i 


f 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Visit  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy. 

HILE  visiting  Eastport,  Audubon  made  a  trip  to 
the  Bay  of  Fundy  and  some  of  its  neighboring 
islands,  in  searchof  the  birds  which  resort  there  ; 

and  the  following  episode  is  his  own  graphic  account  of 

that  journey : — 

"  Tke  Bay  of  Fundy. 

"  It  was  in  the  month  of  May  that  I  sailed  in  the 
United  States  revenue  cutter  the  Swiftsure,  engaged  in  a 
cruise  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  Oui  sails  were  quickly  un- 
furled, and  spread  out  to  the  breeze. 

"  The  vessel  seemed  to  fly  over  the  liquid  element,  as 
the  sun  rose  in  full  splendor,  while  the  clouds  that  floated 
here  and  there  formed,  with  their  glowing  hues,  a  rich 
contrast  with  the  pure  azure  of  the  heavens  above  us.  We 
approached  apace  the  island  of  Grand  Menan,  of  which 
the  stupendous  cliffs  gradually  emerged  from  the  deep, 
with  the  majestic  boldness  of  her  noblest  native  chief 
Soon  our  bark  passed  beneath  its  craggy  head,  covered 
with  trees  which,  on  account  of  the  height,  seemed  scarce- 
ly larger  than  shrubs.  The  prudent  raven  spread  her 
pinions,  launched  from  the  cliff,  and  flew  away  before  us  \ 
the  golden  eagle,  soaring  aloft,  moved  majestically  along 
in  wide  circles  ;  the  guillemots  sat  on  their  eggs  upon  the 
shelvy  precipices,  or,  plunging  into  the  water,  dived  and 
rose  again  at  a  great  distance  ;  the  broad-breasted  eider- 
duck  covered  her  eggs  among  the  grassy  tufls;  on  a 


fVhite-head  Island, 


289 


naked  rock  the  seal  lazily  basked,  its  sleek  sides  glisten- 
ing in  the  sunshine  ;  while  shoals  of  porpoises  were 
swiftly  gliding  through  the  waters  around  us,  showing  by 
their  gambols  that,  although  doomed  to  the  deep,  their 
life  was  not  devoid  of  pleasure.  Far  away  stood  the  bold 
shores  of  Nova  Scotia,  gradually  fading  in  the  distance, 
of  which  the  gray  tints  beautifully  relieved  the  wing-like 
sails  of  many  a  fishing-bark.  Cape  after  cape,  forming 
eddies  and  counter-currents  far  too  terrific  to  be  des- 
cribed by  a  landsman,  we  passed  in  succession,  until  we 
reached  a  deep  cove  near  the  shores  of  White-head  Isl- 
and, which  is  divided  from  Grand  Menan  by  a  narrow 
strait,  where  we  anchored  secure  from  every  blast  that 
could  blow.  In  a  short  time  we  found  ourselves  under 
the  roof  of  Captain  Frankland,  the  sole  owner  of  the  isle, 
of  which  the  surface  contains  about  fifteen  hundred  acres. 
He  received  us  all  with  politeness,  and  gave  us  permission 
to  seek  out  its  treasures,  which  we  immediately  set  about 
doing,  for  I  was  anxious  to  study  the  habits  of  certain 
gulls  that  breed  there  in  great  numbers.  As  Captain 
Coolidge,  our  worthy  commander,  had  assured  me,  we 
found  them  on  their  nests  on  almost  every  tree  of  a  wood 
that  covered  several  acres.  What  a  treat,  reader,  was  it 
to  find  birds  of  this  kind  lodged  on  fir-trees,  and  sitting 
comfortably  on  their  eggs  I 

"  Their  loud  cackling  notes  led  us  to  their  place  of 
resort,  and  ere  long  we  had  satisfactorily  observed  their 
habits,  and  collected  as  many  of  themselves  and  their 
eggs  as  we  considered  sufficient.  In  our  walks  we  no- 
ticed a  rat,  the  only  quadruped  found  in  the  island,  and 
observed  abundance  of  gooseberries,  currants,  rasps, 
strawberries,  and  huckleberries.  Seating  ourselves  on  the 
sumn:it  of  the  rocks,  in  view  of  the  vast  Atlantic,  we 
spread  out  our  stores  and  refreshed  ourselves  with  our 
simple  fare.  Now  we  followed  the  objects  of  our  pursuit 
13 


I 


,  ! 


"1 


\ 


111 


ym 


rh 


111! 


n 


'jti 


4  if' 


3|: 


I 


'I 


;  I ' 


290 


Life  of  Audubon, 


through  the  tangled  woods,  now  carefully  picked  oui  steps 
over  the  spongy  grounds.  The  air  was  filled  with  the 
melodious  concerts  of  birds,  and  all  Nature  seemed  to 
smile  in  quiet  enjoyment.  We  wandered  about  until  the 
setting  sun  warned  us  to  depart,  when,  returning  to  the 
house  of  the  proprietor,  we  sat  down  to  an  excellen 
repast,  and  amused  ourselves  with  relating  anecdotes  and 
forming  arrangements  for  the  morrow.  Our  captain  com- 
plimented us  on  our  success  when  we  reached  the  Swift- 
sure,  and  in  due  time  we  betook  ourselves  to  our  ham- 
mocks. The  next  morning,  a  strange  sail  appearing  in 
the  distance,  preparations  were  instantly  made  to  pay  her 
commander  a  visit.  The  signal-staff  of  'Whitehead 
Island '  displayed  the  British  flag,  while  Captain  Frank- 
land  and  his  men  stood  on  the  shore,  and  as  we  gave  our 
sails  to  the  wind,  three  hearty  cheers  filled  the  air,  and 
were  instantly  responded  to  by  us.  The  vessel  was  soon 
approached,  but  all  was  found  right  with  her,  and,  squar- 
ing our  yards,  onward  we  sped,  cheerily  bounding  over 
the  gay  billows,  until  our  captain  set  us  ashore  at  East- 
port.  At  another  time  my  party  was  received  on  board 
the  revenue  cutter's  tender,  the  Fancy,  a  charming  name 
for  so  beautiful  a  craft.  We  set  sail  towards  evening. 
The  cackling  of  the  'old  wives,'  that  covered  the  bay, 
filled  me  with  delight,  and  thousands  of  gulls  and  cor- 
morants seemed  as  if  anxious  to  pilot  us  into  *  Head  Har- 
bor Bay,'  where  we  anchored  for  the  night.  Leaping  on 
the  rugged  shore,  we  made  our  way  to  the  lighthouse, 
where  we  found  Mr.  Snelling,  a  good  and  honest  Eng- 
lishman, from  Devonshire.  His  family  consisted  of  three 
wild-looking  lasses,  beautiful,  hke  the  most  finished  pro- 
ductions of  Nature.  In  his  lighthouse,  snugly  ensconced, 
he  spent  his  days  in  peaceful  fcrgetfulness  of  the  world, 
subsisting  principally  on  the  fish  of  the  bay.  When  day 
broke^  how  delightful  it  was  to  see  fair  Nature  open  i\ei 


Forest  Sounds. 


29] 


graceful  eyelids,  and  present  herself  arrayed  in  all  that 
was  richest  and  purest  before  her  Creator !  Ah  I  reader, 
how  indelibly  are  such  moments  engraved  upon  my  soul  I 
with  what  ardor  have  I  at  such  times  gazed  around  me, 
full  of  the  desire  of  being  enabled  to  comprehend  all  that 
I  saw !  How  often  have  I  longed  to  converse  with  the 
feathered  inhabitants  of  the  forest,  all  of  which  seemed 
then  intent  on  offering  up  their  thanks  to  the  object  of  my 
own  adoration !  But  the  wish  could  not  be  gratified, 
although  I  now  feel  satisfied  that  I  have  enjoyed  as  much 
of  the  wonders  and  beauties  of  Nature  as  it  was  proper 
for  me  to  enjoy.  The  delightful  trills  of  the  winter  wren 
rolled  through  the  underwood,  the  red  squirrel  smacked 
time  with  his  chops,  the  loud  notes  of  the  robin  sounded 
clearly  from  the  tops  of  the  trees,  the  rosy  grosbeak  nip- 
ped the  tender  blossoms  of  the  maples,  and  high  over- 
head the  loons  passed  in  pairs,  rapidly  wending  their  way 
toward  far-distant  shores.  Would  that  I  could  have  fol- 
lowed in  their  wake  !  The  hour  of  our  departure  had 
come,  and,  as  we  sailed  up  the  bay,  our  pilot,  who  had 
been  fishing  for  cod,  was  taken  on  board.  A  few  of  his 
fish  were  roasted  on  a  plank  before  the  embers,  and  form- 
ed the  principal  part  of  our  breakfast.  The  breeze  was 
light,  and  it  was  not  until  afternoon  that  we  arrived  at 
Point  Lepreaux  Harbor,  where  every  one,  making  choice 
of  his  course,  went  in  search  of  curiosities  or  provender. 
Now,  reader,  the  little  harbor  in  which,  if  you  wish  it,  we 
shall  suppose  we  still  are,  is  renowned  for  a  circumstance 
which  I  feel  much  inclined  to  endeavor  to  explain  to  you 
Several  species  of  ducks,  that  in  myriads  cover  the  waters 
of  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  are  at  times  destroyed  in  this  par- 
ticular spot  in  a  very  singular  manner.  When  July  has 
come,  all  the  wa^^er  birds  that  are  no  longer  capable  of 
reproducing  remain,  like  so  many  forlorn  bachelors  and 
old  maids,  to  renew  their  plumage  along  the  shores.     At 


it, 


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292 


Life  of  Audubon, 


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the  period  when  these  poor  birds  are  unfit  for  flight,  troops 
of  Indians  make  their  appearance  in  light  bark  canoes, 
paddled  by  their  squaws  and  papooses.     They  form  their 
flotilla  into  an  extended  curve,  and  drive  the  birds  before 
them  ;  not  in  silence,  but  with  simultaneous  horrific  yells, 
at  the  same  time  beating  the  surface  of  the  water  with 
their  long  poles  and  paddles.  Terrified  by  the  noise,  the 
birds  swim  a  long  way  before  them,  endeavoring  to  escape 
with  all  their  might.     The  tide  is  high,  every  cove  is  fill- 
ed, and  into  the  one  where  we  now  are  thousands  of  ducks 
are  seen  entering.     The  Indians  have  ceased  to  shout, 
and  the  canoes  advance  side  by  side.     Time  passes  on, 
the  tide  swiftly  recedes  as  it  rose,  and  there  are  the  birds 
left  on  the  beach.     See  with  what  pleasure  each  wild  in- 
habitant of  the  forest  seizes  his  stick,  the  squaws  and 
younglings   following   with  similar  weapons!      Look    at 
them  rushing  on  their  prey,  falling  on  the  disabled  birds, 
and  smashing  them  with  their  cudgels,  until  all  are  de- 
stroyed !     In  this  manner  upwards  of  five  hundred  wild 
fowls  have  often  been  procured  in  a  few  hours.     Three 
pleasant  days  were  spent  about  Point  Lepreaux,  when 
the  Fancy  spread  her  wings  to  the  breeze.     In  one  har- 
bor we  fished  for  shells,  with  a  capital  dredge,  and  in 
another  searched  along  the  shore  for  eggs.     The  Passama- 
quoddy  chief  is  seen  gliding  swiftly  over  the  deep  in  his 
fragile  bark.     He  has  observed  a  porpoise  breathing. 
Watch  him,  for  now  he  is  close  upon  the  unsuspecting 
dolphin.    He  rises  erect ;  aims  his  musket :  smoke  rises 
curling  from  the  pan,  and  rushes  from  the  iron  tube,  when 
soon  after  the  '■eport  reaches  the  ear :  meantime,  the 
porpoise    has  suddenly  turned  back   downwards  j  it  is 
dead.    The  body  weighs  a  hundred  pounds  or  more,  but 
this,  to  the  tough-iibred  son  of  the  woods,  is  nothing ;  he 
reaches  it  with  his  muscular  arms,  and,  at  a  single  jerk- 
while  with  his  legs  he  dexterously  steadies  the  canoe-^ 


ride. 


^93 


he  throws  it  lengthwise  at  his  feet.  Amidst  the  highest 
waves  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  these  feats  are  performed  b) 
the  Indians  during  the  whole  of  the  season,  when  the 
porpoises  resort  thither. 

"You  have  often,  no  doubt,  heard  of  the  extraordina- 
ry tides  of  this  bay ;  so  had  I,  but,  like  others,  I  was  loth 
to  believe  that  the  reports  were  strictly  true.  So  I  went 
to  the  pretty  town  of  Windsor,  in  Nova  Scotia,  to  judge 
for  myself. 

"  But  let  us  leave  the  Fancy  for  awhile,  and  fancy  our- 
selves at  Windsor.  Late  one  g.  v  in  August,  my  com- 
panions cincl  r  were  seated  on  the  grassy  elevated  bank 
of  the  river,  about  eighty  feet  or  so  above  its  bed,  which 
was  almost  dry,  and  extended  for  nine  miles  below  like  a 
sandy  wilderness.  Many  vessels  lay  on  the  high  banks, 
taking  in  their  cargo  of  gypsum.  We  thought  th^  ap- 
pearance very  singular,  but  we  were  too  late  to  watch  the 
tide  that  evening.  Next  morning  we  resumed  our  sta- 
tion, and  soon  perceived  the  water  flowing  toward  us,  and 
rising  with  a  rapidity  of  which  we  had  previously  seen  no 
example.  We  planted  along  the  steep  declivity  of  the 
bank  a  number  of  sticks,  each  three  feet  long,  the  base 
of  one  being  placed  on  a  level  with  the  top  of  that  below 
it,  and  when  about  half  flow  the  tide  reached  their  tops, 
one  after  another,  rising  three  feet  in  ten  minutes,  or 
eighteen  in  the  hour,  and  at  high  water  the  surface  was 
sixty-five  feet  above  the  bed  of  the  river.  On  looking 
for  the  vessels  which  we  had  seen  the  previous  evening, 
we  were  told  that  most  of  them  had  gone  with  the  night 
tide.  But  now  we  are  again  on  board  the  Fancy ;  Mr. 
Claredge  stands  near  the  pilot,  who  sits  next  to  the  man 
at  the  helm.  On  we  move  swiftly,  for  the  breeze  has 
fireshened ;  many  islands  we  pass  in  succession  ;  the  wind 
increases  to  a  gale.  With  reefed  sails  we  dash  along, 
and  now  rapidly  pass  a  heavily-laden  sloop,  gallantly  run- 


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294 


Life  of  Audubon, 


ning  across  our  course  with  undiminished  sail,  when  sud 
denly  we  see  her  upset.  Staves  and  spars  are  floating 
around,  and  presently  we  observe  three  men  scrambling 
up  h  3r  sides,  and  seating  themselves  on  the  keel,  where 
they  make  signals  of  distress  to  us.  By  this  time  we 
have  run  to  a  great  distance ;  but  Claredge,  cool  and 
prudent,  as  every  seaman  ought  to  be,  has  already  issued 
his  orders  to  the  helmsman  and  crew,  and,  now  near  the 
wind,  we  gradually  approach  the  sufferers.  A  line  is 
thrown  to  them,  and  next  moment  we  are  alongside  the 
vessel.  A  fisher's  boat,  too,  has  noticed  the  disaster,  and 
with  long  strokes  of  her  oars,  advances,  now  rising  on 
the  curling  wave,  and  now  sinking  out  of  sight.  By  our 
mutual  efforts  the  men  are  brought  on  board,  and  the 
sloop  is  slowly  towed  into  a  safe  harbor.  In  an  1  our  af- 
ter my  party  was  safely  landed  at  Eastport,  where,  on 
looking  over  the  waters,  and  observing  the  dense  masses 
of  vapors  that  veiled  the  shore,  we  congratulated  our- 
selves at  having  escaped  from  the  Bay  of  Fimdy" 


"^^^^g 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Return  to  Boston^'  Wanderings  in  the  Neighborhood—'  Voyage  to  Lab^ 
rador  in  the  Schooner  Ripley — Misadventures  at  Little  River— 
Seal  and  Mud  Islands — The  Gut  of  Canseau. 

jjROM  Frederickton  Audubon  returned  in  a  private 
conveyance  to  Houlton,  thence  along  the  United 
States  military  road  to  Bangor,  and  thence  by 
public  stages  to  Boston,  whore  he  arrived  early  in  Octo- 
ber. Finding  that  it  would  improve  his  great  work  on 
the  "  Birds  "  to  remain  another  year  in  America,  and  visit 
parts  of  the  country  yet  unexplored  by  him,  Audubon 
determined  to  send  his  eldest  son  Victor  to  England,  to 
superintend  the  engraving,  and  to  look  after  his  general 
interests  there.  Victor  Audubon  accordingly  sailed  from 
New  York  for  Liverpool,  toward  the  end  of  October,  while 
his  father  remained  in  Boston  during  that  and  the  following 
winter,  actively  engaged  in  making  drawings  of  new  birds 
which  he  had  discovered,  and  also  in  redrawing  and 
greatly  improving  some  of  his  older  drawings.  He  also 
made  frequent  excursions  into  the  surrounding  country. 
"  Here,"  says  the  Journal,  "  I  was  witness  to  the  melan- 
choly death  of  the  great  Spurzheim,  and  was  myself  sud- 
denly attacked  by  a  short  but  severe  illness,  which  greatly 
alarmed  my  family  ;  but  thanks  to  Providence  and  my 
medical  friends,  Parkman,  Shattuck,  and  Warren,  I  was 
soon  enabled  to  proceed  with  my  labor — a  sedentary  life 
and  too  close  application  being  the  cause  assigned  for 
my  indisposition.  I  resolved  to  set  out  again  in  quest  of 
fresh  materials  for  my  pencil  and  pen.     My  wishes  direct- 


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296 


Life  of  Audubon, 


ing  me  to  Labiador,  I  returned  eastward  with  my  young- 
est son,  and  had  the  pleasure  of  being  joined  by  foui 
young  gentlemen,  all  fond  of  natural  history,  and  willing 
to  encounter  the  difficulties  and  privations  of  the  voyage- 
George  Shattuck,  Thomas  Lincoln,  William  Ingalls,  and 
Joseph  Coolidge." 

The  schooner  Ripley  was  chartered  at  Boston  for  fif- 
teen hundred  dollars  for  the  trip  to  Labrador.  The 
journal  containing  the  narrative  begins  at  Eastport. 

"  ^une  4,  1833.  The  day  has  been  fine,  and  I  dined 
with  Captain  Childs,  commanding  the  United  States 
troops  here.  We  had  a  pleasant  dinner,  but  I  am  impa- 
tient to  be  under  weigh  for  Labrador.  The  vessel  is  be- 
ing prepared  for  our  reception  and  departure ;  and  we 
have  concluded  to  ship  two  extra  sailors,  and  a  boy,  to  be 
a  sort  of  major-domo,  to  clean  our  guns,  hunt  for  nests 
and  birds,  and  assist  in  skinning  them,  &c.  While  ram- 
bling in  the  woods  this  morning  I  discovered  a  crow's 
nest  with  five  young  ones  in  it,  and  as  I  climbed  the  tree 
the  parents  came  to  the  rescue  of  their  children,  crying 
loudly  and  with  such  perseverance,  that  in  fifteen  minutes 
more  than  fifty  pairs  of  these  birds  had  jomed  in  theis 
vociferations,  although  I  saw  only  a  single  pair  wnen  I 
began  to  climb  the  tree. 

"  ^une  6.  We  sailed  from  '  Eastport  about  one 
o'clock  p.  M.,  and  the  whole  male  population  seemed  to 
have  turned  out  to  witness  our  departure,  just  as  if  no 
schooner  of  the  size  of  the  Ripley  had  ever  gone  from 
this  mighty  port  to  Labrador ;  our  numerous  friends  came 
with  the  throng,  and  we  all  shook  hands  as  if  we  were 
never  to  meet  again  ;  and  as  we  pushed  off  with  a  trifling 
accident  or  so,  the  batteries  of  the  garrison  and  the  can- 
non of  the  revenue  cutter  in  the  stream  saluted  us  with 
stout,  loud,  and  oft-repeated  reports.  Captain  Coolidge 
accompanied  us,  and  was,  indeed,  our  pilct,  until  wa 


The  Bay  of  Funiy. 


297 


passed  Lubec.  The  wind  was  light  and  ahead,  and  yet 
with  the  assistance  of  the  tide  we  drifted  twenty-five 
miles  down  to  Little  River  during  the  night. 

"y««'7.  This  morning  found  us  riding  at  anchor 
near  som:  ugly-looking  rocks,  the  sight  of  which  caused 
our  captain  to  try  to  get  out  of  their  way,  and  the  whole 
morning  was  spent  in  trying  to  get  into  Little  River,  but 
the  me  were  unable  to  tow  us  in.  We  landed  for  a  few 
minutes  and  shot  a  hermit  thrush,  but  the  wind  sprang 
up,  and  we  retiu^ned  to  the  vessel  and  tried  to  put  out  to 
sea ;  we  were  for  a  time  in  danger  of  drifting  upon  the 
rocks,  but  tlie  wind  increased,  and  we  made  our  way  out 
to  sea.  Suddenly,  however,  the  fog  came  drifting  in,  and 
was  so  thick  that  we  could  hardly  see  the  bowsprit,  and 
the  night  was  spent  in  direful  apprehension  of  some  im- 
pending evil ;  although,  about  twelve,  squalls  of  wind  de- 
cided in  our  favor,  and  when  day  dawned  the  wind  was 
blowing  fresh  from  the  north,  and  we  were  driving  on  the 
waters,  all  sea-sick,  and  crossing  that  worst  of  all  dread- 
ful bays,  the  Bay  of  Fundy. 

"  y^une  8.  We  sailed  between  Seal  and  Mud  Islands. 
In  the  latter  the  procellaria  (a  species  of  gull)  breed 
abundantly  ;  their  nests  are  dug  in  the  sand  to  the  depth 
of  two  feet  or  more,  and  the  whole  island  is  covered  with 
them,  looking  like  rat  holes.     They  lay  three  white  eggs." 

The  next  two  days  recorded  in  the  Journal  describe 
the  winds  and  sights,  and  bir:!s  which  were  seen  as  the 
voyagers  scudded  from  Cape  Sable  to  the  Gut  of  Can- 
seaU;  so  named  by  the  early  French  voyagers,  because 
they  found  vast  quantities  of  wild  geese  there.  The 
wind  was  fair,  and  the  captain  of  the  Ripley  wished 
to  continue  his  course  to  Labrador.  But  Audubon,  anx- 
ious to  explore  every  part  of  the  coast  along  which  they 
were  sailing,  persuaded  the  captain  to  come  to  anchor  in 
a  harbor  in  the  Gut  of  Canseau,  of  the  same  name 
13* 


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Life  of  Judubon. 


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It! 


Here  he  found  twenty  sail  of  Labrador  fishermen  ai 
anchor,  and  obtained  the  information  which  enabled  him 
to  write  the  following  episode. 

"  Although  I  had  seen,  as  I  thought,  abundance  of 
fish  along  the  coasts  of  the  Floridas,  the  numbers  which  I 
found  in  Labrador  quite  astonished  me.  Should  your 
surprise  while  reading  the  following  statements  be  as  great 
as  mine  was  while  observing  the  facts  related,  you  will 
conclude,  as  I  have  often  done,  that  Nature's  means  for 
providing  small  animals  for  the  use  of  large  ones,  vice 
vtrsA^  are  as  ample  as  is  the  grandeur  of  that  world  which 
she  has  so  curiously  constructed.  The  coast  of  Labrador 
is  visited  by  European  as  well  as  American  fishermen,  all 
of  whom  are,  I  believe,  entitled  to  claim  portions  of  fish- 
ing ground,  assigned  to  each  nation  by  mutual  under- 
standing. For  the  present,  however,  I  shall  confine  my 
observations  to  those  who  chiefly  engage  in  this  depart 
ment  of  our  commerce.  Eastport  in  Maine  sends  out 
every  year  a  goodly  fleet  of  schooners  and  *  pick-axes  *  to 
Labrador,  to  procure  cod,  mackerel,  halibut,  and  some- 
times herring,  the  latter  being  caught  in  the  intermediate 
space.  The  vessels  from  that  port,  and  others  in  Maine 
and  Massachusetts,  sail  as  soon  as  the  warmth  of  spring 
has  freed  the  gulf  of  ice,  that  is  from  the  beginning  of  May 
to  that  of  June. 

"  A  vessel  of  one  hundred  tons  or  so  is  provided  with 
a  crew  of  twelve  men,  who  are  equally  expert  as  sailors 
and  fishers,  and  for  every  couple  of  these  hardy  tars  a 
Hampton  boat  is  provided,  wl.ich  is  lashed  on  the  deck  or 
hung  in  stays.  Their  provision  is  simple,  but  of  good 
quality,  and  it  is  very  seldom  any  spirits  are  allowed  ;  beef, 
pork,  and  biscuit,  with  water,  being  all  they  take  with 
them.  The  men  are  supplied  with  warm  clothing,  water- 
proof oil  jackets  and  trousers,  large  boots,  broad-brimmed 
bats  with  a  round  crown,  and  stout  mittens,  with  a  feM 


Fishing  Life  in  Labrador. 


299 


shirts.  1  lie  owner  or  captain  furnishes  them  with  lines, 
hooks,  and  nets,  and  also  provides  the  bait  best  adapted 
to  insure  success.  The  hold  of  the  vessel  is  filled  with 
casks  of  various  dimensions,  some  containing  salt,  and 
others  for  the  oil  that  may  be  procured.  The  bait  gen- 
erally used  at  the  beginning  of  the  season  consists  0* 
mussels,  salted  for  the  purpose  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  cape- 
lings  reach  the  coast,  they  are  substituted  to  save  expense ; 
and,  in  many  instances,  the  flesh  of  gannets  and  othei 
sea-fowl  is  employed.  The  wages  of  fishermen  vary 
from  sixteen  to  thirty  dollars  per  month,  according  to  the 
qualifications  of  the  individual.  The  labor  of  these  men 
is  excessively  hard,  for,  except  on  Sunday,  their  allow- 
ance of  rest  in  the  twenty-four  hours  seldom  exceeds  three. 
The  cook  is  the  only  person  who  fares  better  in  this  re- 
spect, but  he  must  also  assist  in  cuiing  the  fish.  He  has 
breakfast,  consisting  of  coffee,  bread,  and  meat,  ready  for 
the  captain  and  the  whole  crew,  by  three  o'clock  every 
morning  except  Sunday.  Each  person  carries  with  him 
his  dinner  ready  cooked,  which  is  commonly  eaten  on  the 
fishing-ground.  Thus,  at  three  in  the  morning,  the  crew 
are  prepared  for  their  day's  labor,  and  ready  to  betake 
themselves  to  their  boats,  each  of  which  has  two  oars  and 
lug-sails.  They  all  depart  at  once,  and  either  by  rowing 
or  sailing,  reach  the  banks  to  which  the  fishes  are  known 
to  resort.  The  little  squadron  drop  their  anchors  at  short 
distances  from  f^ach  other,  in  a  depth  of  from  ten  to 
twenty  feet,  and  the  business  is  immediately  commenced. 
Each  man  has  two  lines,  and  each  stands  in  one  end  of 
the  boat,  the  middle  of  which  is  boarded  off  to  hold  the 
fish.  The  baited  lines  have  been  dropped  into  the  wa- 
ter, one  on  each  side  of  the  boat;  their  leads  have 
touched  the  bottom  ;  a  fish  has  taken  the  hook,  and  after 
giving  the  line  a  slight  jerk,  the  fisherman  hauls  up  his 
pri?e  with  a  continued  pull,  throws  the  fish  athwart  a 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


small  round  bar  of  iron  placed  near  his  back,  which  forcen 
open  the  mouth,  while  the  weight  of  the  body,  howevei 
small  the  fish  may  be,  tears  out  the  hook.  The  bait  is 
Jtill  good,  and  over  the  side  the  line  again  goes,  to  catch 
another  fish,  while  that  on  the  left  is  now  drawn  up,  and 
the  same  course  pursued.  In  this  manner,  a  fisher  busily 
plying  at  each  end,  the  operation  \s  continued,  until  the 
boat  is  so  laden  that  her  gunwale  is  brought  within  a  few 
inches  of  the  surface,  when  they  return  to  the  vessel  in 
harbor,  seldom  distant  more  than  eight  miles  from  the 
banks.  During  the  greater  part  of  the  day  the  fishermen 
have  kept  up  a  constant  conversation,  of  which  the 
topics  are  the  pleasures  of  finding  a  good  supply  of  cod, 
their  domestic  affairs,  the  political  prospects  of  the  na- 
tion, and  other  matters  similarly  connected.  Now  the  re- 
partee of  one  elicits  a  laugh  from  the  other  ;  this  passes 
from  man  to  man,  and  the  whole  flotilla  enjoy  the  joke. 
The  men  of  one  boat  strive  to  outdo  those  of  the  others 
in  hauling  up  the  greatest  quantity  of  fish  in  a  given 
time,  and  this  forms  another  source  of  merriment.  Th*^ 
boats  are  generally  filled  about  the  same  time,  and  all  re- 
turn together.  Arrived  at  the  vessel,  each  man  employs  a 
pole  armed  with  a  bent  iron,  resembling  the  prong  of  a 
hay-fork,  with  which  he  pierces  the  fish  and  throws  it  with 
a  jerk  on  deck,  counting  the  number  thus  discharged  with 
a  loud  voice.  Each  cargo  is  thus  safely  deposited,  and 
the  boats  instantly  return  to  the  fishing  ground,  when, 
after  anchoring,  the  men  eat  their  dinner  and  begin  anew. 
There,  good  reader,  with  your  leave,  I  will  let  them  pur- 
sue their  avocations  for  awhile,  as  I  am  anxious  that  you 
should  witness  what  is  doing  on  board  the  vessel.  The 
captain,  four  men,  and  the  cook  have,  in  the  course  of  the 
morning,  erected  long  tables  fore  and  aft  of  the  main 
hatchway.  They  have  taken  to  the  shore  most  of  the 
.5alt  barrels,  and  have  placed  in  a  row  their  large  empt)' 


'.  Ii  ■;; 


W 


Fishing  Life  in  Labrador. 


301 


ipt)' 


casks  to  receive  the  livers.  The  hold  of  the  \  essel  is 
quite  clear,  except  a  corner,  where  is  a  large  heap  of  salt. 
And  now  the  men,  having  dined  precisely  at  twelve,  are 
ready  with  their  large  knives.  One  begins  with  breaking 
off  the  head  of  the  fish,  a  slight  pull  of  the  hand  and  a 
gash  with  the  knife  effecting  this  in  a  moment.  He  slits 
up  the  belly,  with  one  hand  pushes  it  aside  to  his  neigh- 
bor, tlien  throws  overboard  the  head  and  begins  to  doctor 
another ;  the  next  man  tears  out  the  entrails,  separates 
the  liver,  which  he  throws  into  a  cask,  and  casts  the  rest 
overboard.  A  third  person  dexterously  passes  his  knife 
beneath  the  vertebrae  of  the  fish,  separates  them  from  the 
flesh,  heaves  the  latter  through  the  hatchway,  and  the 
former  into  the  water.  Now,  if  you  will  peep  into  the 
hold,  you  will  see  the  last  stage  of  the  process,  the  salting 
and  packing.  Six  experienced  men  generally  manage  to 
head,  gut,  bone,  salt,  and  pack  all  the  fish  caught  in  the 
morning,  by  the  return  of  the  boats  with  fresh  cargoes, 
when  all  hands  set  to  work  and  clear  the  deck  of  the 
fish.  Thus  their  labors  continue  until  twelve  o'clock, 
when  they  wash  their  faces  and  hands,  put  on  clean 
clothes,  hang  their  fishing  apparel  on  the  shrouds,  and, 
betaking  themselves  to  the  forecastle,  are  soon  in  a  sound 
sleep. 

"  At  three  next  morning  comes  the  captain  from  his 
berth,  rubbing  his  eyes,  and  in  a  loud  voice  calling,  *  All 
hands,  ho !'  Stiffened  in  limb,  and  but  half  awake,  the  ^ 
crew  quickly  appear  on  deck.  Their  fingers  and  hands 
are  so  cramped  and  swollen  by  pulling  the  lines  that  it  is 
difficult  for  them  even  to  straighten  a  thumb ;  but  this 
matters  little  at  present,  for  the  cook,  who  had  a  good 
nap  yesterday,  has  risen  an  hour  befoie  them,  and  pre- 
pared their  coffee  and  eatables.  Breakfast  despatched, 
they  exchange  their  clean  clothes  for  the  fishing  apparel, 
and  leap  into  their  boats,  which  had  been  washed  the 


.•nil 


!  '1 


t 

iiii 


ii' 


1.1 


n 


I 


302 


Life  of  Audubon 


previous  night,  and  again  the  flotilla  bounds  to  the  fish 
ing  ground.  As  there  may  be  not  less  than  100  schoon 
ers  or  pick-axes  in  the  harbor,  300  boats  resort  to  the 
banks  each  day;  and  as  each  boat  may  procure  2,000 
cod  per  diem,  when  Saturday  night  comes,  about  600,000 
fishes  have  been  brought  to  the  harbor.  This  having 
caused  some  scarcity  on  the  fishing  grounds,  and  Sunday 
being  somewhat  of  an  idle  day,  the  captain  collects  the 
salt  ashore,  and  sets  sail  for  some  other  convenient  har- 
bor, which  he  expects  to  reach  before  sunset.  If  the 
weather  be  favorable  the  men  get  a  good  deal  of  rest  dur- 
ing the  voyage,  and  on  Monday  things  go  on  as  before. 
I  must  not  omit  to  tell  you,  reader,  that  while  proceed- 
ing from  one  harbor  to  another  the  vessel  has  passed 
near  a  rock  which  is  the  breeding  place  of  myriads  of 
puffins.  She  has  laid  to  for  an  hour  or  so,  while  part  of 
the  crew  have  landed  and  collected  a  store  of  eggs,  ex- 
cellent as  a  substitute  for  cream,  and  not  less  so  when 
hard  boiled  as  food  for  the  fishing  grounds.  I  may  as 
well  inform  you  also  how  these  adventurous  fellows  dis- 
tinguish the  fresh  eggs  from  the  others.  They  fill  up 
some  large  tubs  with  water,  throw  in  a  quantity  of  eggs, 
and  allow  them  to  remain  a  minute  or  so,  when  those 
which  come  to  the  surface  are  tossed  overboard,  and 
even  those  that  manifest  any  upward  tendency  share  the 
Sime  treatment.  All  that  remain  at  bottom,  you  may  de- 
pend upon  it,  good  reader,  are  perfectly  sound,  and  not 
less  palatable  than  any  that  you  have  ever  eaten,  or  that 
your  best  guinea-fowl  has  just  dropped  in  your  barn- 
yard ;  but  let  us  return  to  the  cod-fish.  The  fish  already 
procured  and  salted  is  taken  ashore  at  the  r  -:\v  harbor  by 
part  of,  the  crew,  whom  the  captain  has  marked  as  the 
worst  hands  at  fishing.  There  on  the  bare  rocks,  or  ele- 
vated scaffolds  of  considerable  extent,  the  salted  cods  are 
laid  side  by  side  to  dry  in  the  sun.    They  are  turned 


ex- 


the 

de- 

not 

that 


Marvellous  Life  in  Labrador,  303 

several  times  a  day,  and  in  the  intervals  the  men  bear  a 
hand  on  board  at  clearing  and  stowing  away  the  daily 
produce  of  the  fishing  banks.  Towards  evening  they  re- 
turn to  the  drying  grounds,  and  put  up  the  fish  in  piles 
resembling  so  many  haystacks,  disposing  those  towards 
the  top  in  such  a  manner  that  the  rain  cannot  injure 
them,  and  placing  a  heavy  stone  on  the  summit  to  pre- 
vent their  being  thrown  down,  should  it  blow  hard  dur- 
ing the  night.  You  see,  reader,  that  the  life  of  a  Labra- 
dor fisherman  is  not  one  of  idleness.  The  capelings 
have  approached  the  shores,  and  in  myriads  enter  every 
basin  and  stream  to  deposit  their  spawn,  for  now  July 
is  come,  the  cods  follow  them  as  the  bloodhound  follows 
his  prey,  and  their  compact  masses  literally  line  the 
shores.  The  fishermen  now  adopt  another  method. 
They  have  brought  with  them  long  and  deep  seines,  one 
end  of  which  is,  by  means  of  a  line,  fastened  to  the  shore, 
while  the  other  is  in  the  usual  manner  drawn  out  in  a 
broad  sweep,  to  inclose  as  great  a  space  as  possible,  and 
hauled  on  shore  by  means  of  a  capstan.  Some  of  the 
men  in  boats  support  the  corked  part  of  the  net,  and 
beat  the  water  to  frighten  the  fishes  within  towards  the 
land  j  while  others,  armed  with  poles,  enter  the  water, 
hook  the  fishes,  and  fling  them  on  the  beach,  the  net  be- 
ing gradually  drawn  closer  as  the  number  of  fishes  di- 
minish. What  do  you  think,  reader,  as  to  the  number  of 
cods  secured  in  this  manner  at  a  single  haul  ? — twenty  or 
thirty  thousand.  You  may  form  some  notion  of  the  mat- 
ter when  I  tell  you  that  the  young  gentlemen  of  my  party, 
while  goiiig  along  the  shores,  caught  cod-fish  alive  with 
their  hands,  and  trouts  of  weight  with  a  piece  of  twine 
and  a  mackerel  hook  hung  to  their  gun  rods ;  and  that 
if  two  of  them  walked  knee-deep  along  the  rocks,  holding 
a  handkerchief  by  the  corners,  they  swept  it  full  of 
capelings ,  should  you  not  trust  me  in  this,  I  refer  you 


ii 


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1    I 


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3"  * 


It 

^^' . 

^^Bl.  i 

. 

304 


Life  of  Audubon, 


to  the  fishennen  themselves,  or  recommend  ycu  to  go  to 
Labrador,  where  you  will  give  credit  to  the  testimony  of 
your  eyes.  The  seining  of  the  cod-fish  is  not,  I  believe, 
quite  lawful,  for  a  great  proportion  of  the  codlings  which 
are  dragged  ashore  at  last  are  so  small  as  to  be  con- 
sidered useless,  and,  instead  of  being  returned  to  the 
water  as  they  ought  to  be,  are  left  on  the  shore,  where 
they  are  ultimately  eaten  by  bears,  wolves,  and  ravens. 
The  fishes  taken  along  the  coast  or  fishing  stations  only 
a  few  miles  off  are  of  small  dimensions,  and  I  believe  I 
am  correct  in  saying  that  few  of  them  weigh  more  than 
two  pounds  when  perfectly  cured,  or  exceed  six  when 
taken  out  of  the  water.  The  fish  are  liable  to  several 
diseases,  and  at  times  are  annoyed  by  parasitic  animals, 
which  in  a  short  time  render  them  lean  and  unfit  for  use. 
Some  individuals,  from  laziness  or  other  causes,  fish  with 
naked  hooks,  and  thus  frequently  wound  the  cod  without 
securing  them,  in  consequence  of  which  the  shoals  are 
driven  away,  to  the  detriment  of  the  other  fishers.  Some 
carry  their  cargoes  to  other  ports  before  drying  them, 
while  others  dispose  of  them  to  agents  from  distant 
shores.  Some  have  only  a  pick-axe  of  fifty  tons,  while 
others  are  owners  of  seven  or  eight  vessels  of  equal  or 
larger  burden ;  but  whatever  be  their  means,  should  the 
season  prove  favorable,  they  are  generally  well  repaid 
for  their  labor.  I  have  known  instances  of  men  who  on 
their  first  voyage  ranked  as  *  boys,'  and  in  ten  years  after 
were  in  independent  circumstances,  although  they  still 
continued  to  resort  to  the  fishing.  *  For,'  said  they  to 
me,  *  how  could  we  be  content  to  spend  our  time  in  idle- 
ness at  home  ? '  I  know  a  person  of  this  class  who  has 
carried  on  the  trade  for  many  years,  and  who  has  quite  a 
little  fleet  of  schooners,  one  of  which,  the  largest  and 
most  beautifully  built,  has  a  cabin  as  neat  and  comforta- 
ble as  any  that  I  have  ever  seen  in  a  vessel  of  the  same 


Fishing,  J05 

size.  This  vessel  took  fish  on  board  only  when  perfectly 
cured,  or  acted  as  pilot  to  the  rest,  and  now  and  then 
would  return  home  with  an  ample  supply  of  halibut,  or  a 
cargo  of  prime  mackerel.  On  another  occasion  I  will 
offer  some  remarks  on  the  improvements  which  I  think 
might  be  made  in  the  cod  fisheries  ^  the  coast  of  Labia- 
dor." 


,1 
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CHAPTER  XXVII, 

£h  Route  to  Labrador^Gut  f  Canseau — Magdalene  Island— HU 
Inhabitants — Ornithological  Notes — Birds  on  the  Hock — FirH 
Impressions  of  Labrador — Halifax  Eggers. 

"  jfune  II.  From  the  entrance  to  the  Gut  of  Canseau, 
where  the  Ripley  lay  at  anchor,  Audubon  had  the  first 
view  of  the  South-eastern  coast  of  Nova  Scotia,  which  he 
describes  as  *  dreary,  rocky,  poor  and  inhospitable  look- 
ing.' It  snowed  the  next  day,  yet  when  the  party  went 
ashore,  they  found  not  only  trees  in  bloom,  but  the  ground 
plants  were  in  flower,  and  some  tolerably  good-looking 
grass;  and  they  saw  also  robins,  and  sparrows,  and 
finches,  and  their  nests  with  young  ones.  But  no  custom- 
house officer  appeared,  nor  any  individual  who  could 
give  them  any  valuable  information.  They  found  lobsters 
very  abundant  and  caught  forty  in  a  very  short  time; 
but  to  their  surprise  they  did  not  see  a  single  bird. 

"  yune  12.  To  day  there  has  been  cold,  rain  and  hail, 
but  the  frogs  are  piping  in  the  pools.  By-and-by  the 
weather  became  beautiful,  and  the  wind  fair,  and  we 
were  soon  under  way,  following  in  the  wake  of  the  whole 
fleet,  which  had  been  anchored  in  the  harbor  of  Canseau, 
and  gliding  across  tne  great  bay  under  full  press  of  sail. 
The  land  locked  us  in,  the  water  was  smooth,  the  sky 
serene,  and  the  thermometer  at  46  ',and  the  sunshine  on 
deck  was  very  agreeable.  After  sailing  twenty-one  miles 
we  entered  the  real  Gut  of  Canseau,  passing  one  after 
another  every  vessel  of  the  fleet  with  which  we  had  sailed. 

"  The  land  on  each  side  now  rose  in  the  form  of  an  am- 
phitheatre, and  on  the  No"a  Scotia  side  to  a  considerable 


1  he  Gut  of  Canseau. 


307 


hail, 
>y  the 
id  we 
Iwhole 
iseau, 
If  sail. 
fc  sky 
ine  on 

miles 
after 

»ailed. 

in  am- 

:rablq 


height ;  dwellings  appeared  here  and  there,  but  the  coun- 
try is  too  poor  for  comfort :  the  timber  is  small,  and  the 
land  too  stony ;  a  small  patch  of  ploughed  land  planted, 
or  ready  for  potatoes,  was  all  the  cultivation  we  saw. 
Near  one  house  we  saw  a  few  apple  trees,  which  were 
not  yet  in  bloom.  The  general  appearance  of  this  pas* 
sage  reminded  me  of  some  parts  of  the  Hudson  River, 
and,  accompanied  as  we  were  by  thirty  sail  of  vessels, 
the  time  passed  agreeably.  Vegetation  appeared  as  for- 
ward as  at  Eastport :  saw  a  few  chimney  swallows,  and 
heard  a  few  blue  jays.  As  we  passed  Cape  Porcupine, 
a  high  rounding  hill,  we  saw  some  Indians  in  birch-bark 
canoes,  and  clearing  Cape  George  we  were  soon  in  the 
gulf  of  St.  Lawrence.  From  this  place,  on  the  20th  of 
May  last  year,  the  sea  was  a  sheet  of  ice  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach  with  the  aid  of  a  good  spy-glass. 

"  We  ran  down  the  west  coast  of  Cape  Breton  Island, 
and  the  country  looked  well  in  the  distance  ;  large  undu- 
lating hills  were  covered  with  many  hamlets,  and  patches 
of  cultivated  land  were  seen.  It  being  calm  when  we 
neared  Jestico  Island,  about  three  miles  from  Cape  Breton, 
I  left  the  vessel  and  landed  on  it.  It  was  covered  with 
well-grown  grass,  and  filled  with  strawberry  vines  in  full 
bloom.  The  sun  shone  brightly,  the  weather  was  pleas- 
ant, and  we  found  many  northern  birds  breeding  there  j 
the  wild  gooseberries  were  plentiful,  about  the  size  of  a 
pea,  and  a  black  currant  also.  The  wind  arose,  and  we 
hurried  back  to  the  vessel ;  on  the  way  my  son  John  and 
some  of  the  sailors  nearly  killed  a  seal  with  their  oars. 

"  June  13.  This  morning  at  four  o'clock  we  came  in 
sight  of  the  Magdalene  Islands,  distant  about  twenty 
miles.  The  morning  was  dull,  and  by  breakfast-time  a 
thick  fog  obscured  the  horizon,  and  we  lost  sight  of  the 
islands  \  the  wind  rose  sluggishly  and  dead  ahead,  and 
several  ships  and  brigs  loaded  with  timber  from  the  Mira 


•», 


-.1 


■    'I 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


n 


tnichie  came  near  us  beating  their  way  to  the  Atlantic 
At  nine  o'clock  we  dropped  anchor,  being  partly  land* 
locked  between  Breton  Island  and  the  Highlands,  and 
within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  an  Island,  which  formed  a 
part  of  the  group.  The  pilot,  who  is  well  acquainted  here, 
informed  me  that  the  islands  are  all  connected  by  dry 
sand-bars,  and  with  no  channel  between  them  except  the 
one  we  are  in,  called  Entree  Bay,  which  is  formed  by 
Entree  Island  and  a  long  sand-spit  connecting  it  with 
the  mainland.  The  island  is  forty-eight  miles  long,  and 
three  in  breadth ;  the  formation  is  a  red  rough  sandy 
soil,  and  the  north-west  side  is  constantly  wearing  away 
by  the  action  of  the  sea.  Guillemots  were  seated  up- 
right along  the  projecting  shelvings  in  regular  order, 
resembling  so  many  sentinels  on  the  look-out ;  many  gan- 
nets  also  were  seen  on  the  extreme  points  of  the  island. 
On  one  of  the  islands  were  many  houses,  and  a  small 
church,  and  on  the  highest  land  a  large  cross,  indicating 
the  religion  of  the  inhabitants.  Several  small  vessels 
lay  in  the  harbor  called  Pleasant  Bay,  but  the  weather  is 
so  cold  we  cannot  visit  them  until  to-morrow. 

^  June  14,  1833.  Magdalene  Islands,  Gulf  of  St. 
Lawrence.  It  is  one  week  since  we  left  Eastport,  and  we 
breakfasted  with  the  thermometer  at  44°  in  our  cabin, 
and  on  deck  it  1  's  like  mid- winter.  We  landed  on  the 
island  next  to  us  so  chilled  that  we  could  scarcely  use  our 
hands  ;  two  large  bluffs  frowned  on  each  side  of  us,  the 
resort  of  many  sea-birds,  and  some  noble  ravens  which 
we  saw.  Following  a  narrow  path  we  soon  came  upon 
one  of  God's  best  finished  jewels,  a  woman.  She  saw  us 
first,  for  women  are  always  keenest  in  sight  and  percep- 
tion, in  patience  and  fortitude  and  love,  in  faith  and  sor- 
row, and,  as  t  believe,  in  everything  else  which  adorns 
our  race.  She  was  hurrying  towards  her  cottage,  with  a 
child  in  her  arms  having  no  covering  but  a  little  shirt 


Th''  Church, 


3<^^ 


v-\ 


hV: 


of  St, 
nd  we 
cabin, 
on  the 
ise  our 
the 
which 
upon 
saw  us 
ercep- 
d  sor- 
doms 
with  a 
shirt 


The  mother  was  dressed  in  coarse  French  homespun,  with 
a  close  whiu.  cotton  nightcap  on  her  head,  and  the  mild 
est-looking  woman  I  had  seen  in  many  a  day.  At  a  ven- 
ture I  addessed  her  in  French,  and  it  answered  well,  for 
she  replied  in  an  unintelligible  jargon,  about  one-third  of 
A^hich  I  understood,  which  enabled  me  to  make  out  tliat 
jhe  was  the  wife  of  a  fisherman  who  lived  there. 

"We  walked  on  through  the  woods  toward  the 
church.  Who  would  have  expected  to  find  a  church  on 
such  an  island,  among  such  impoverished  people  ?  Yet 
here  it  was,  a  Roman  Catholic  church.  And  here  we 
came  suddenly  on  a  handsome,  youthful,  vigorous,  black- 
haired  and  black-bearded  fellow,  covered  with  a  long  gar- 
ment as  black  as  a  raven,  and  having  a  heart  as  light  as 
a  young  lark's.  He  was  wending  his  way  to  the  church, 
at  the  sound  of  a  bell,  which  measured  twelve  inches  by 
nine  in  diameter,  of  about  thirty  pounds  weight,  which 
could  nevertheles.  be  heard  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  It 
was  the  festival  among  the  Roman  Catholics  of  La  Petite 
F^te  de  Dieu.  The  chapel  was  lighted  with  candles,  and 
all  the  old  wom.en  on  the  island  had  trudged  from  their 
distant  dwellings,  staff  in  hand,  backs  bent  with  age,  and 
eyes  dimmed  by  time.  They  crossed  their  breasts  and 
knelt  before  the  tawdry  images  in  the  church,  with  so 
much  simplicity  and  apparent  sincerity  of  heart,  that  1 
could  not  help  exclaiming  to  myself,  *  Well,  this  is  religion 
after  all.' 

"The  priest,  named  Brunet,  was  from  Quebec,  and 
these  islands  belong  to  Lower  Canada,  but  are  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  Bishop  of  Halifax.  He  is  a  shrewd- 
looking  fellow,  and,  if  I  do  not  mistake  his  character, 
with  a  good  deal  of  the  devil  in  him.  He  told  us  there 
were  no  reptiles  on  the  island  ;  but  we  found  by  our  own 
observations  that  he  was  mistaken,  as  he  was  also  in  the 
representations  he  made  respecting  the  quadrupeds.    Thia 


111 


' '  •■ . 


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ill 


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Life  of  Audubon* 


w 


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|:ii 


priest,  who  I  hope  is.  a  good  and  worthy  man,  told  us  that 
the  land  is  very  poor  and  destitute  of  game,  und  that  the 
seal-fisheries  were  less  profitable  last  year  than  common  ; 
that  there  are  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  families  on  a 
dozen  islands,  and  that  cod,  mackerel,  and  herring-fishing 
were  the  employments  of  the  inhabitants.  One  or  two 
vessels  come  from  Quebec  yearly  to  collect  the  produce 
(of  the  sea).  The  priest  said  he  led  the  life  of  a  re- 
cluse here,  but  if  we  would  accompany  him  to  his  board- 
ing-house he  would  give  us  a  glass  of  good  French  wine- 

"  On  our  rambles  we  found  the  temperature  on  land 
quite  agreeable,  and  in  sheltered  situations  the  sun  was 
warm  and  pleasant.  The  grass  looked  well,  and  straw- 
berry blossoms  were  plenty.  The  woods,  such  as  they 
were,  were  filled  with  warblers  :  the  robin,  thrush,  finch, 
bunting,  &c.  The  fox-tailed  sparrow  and  siskin  breed 
here,  the  hermit  and  tawny  thrush  crossed  our  path,  the 
black-capped  warbler  gambolled  over  the  pools,  and  even 
the  wrens  were  everywhere.  Of  water-birds  the  great 
terns  were  abundant,  and  the  piping  plovers  breed  here. 
We  also  collected  several  species  of  land-snails,  and 
some  specimens  of  gypsum.  We  crossed  the  bay  in  the 
afternoon,  and  found  a  man  who  had  some  fox-skins  for 
sale  :  he  asked  five  pounds  apiece  for  the  black  fox,  and 
one  dollar  and  fifty  cents  for  the  red  skins.  The  woods 
here  are  small,  scrubby  evergreens,  almost  impenetrable 
and  swampy  beneath.     Thermometer  this  evening  44°. 

"y//«<f  15.  Day  dawned  with  the  weather  dull,  but 
the  wind  fair,  and  we  pulled  up  anchor  and  left  the  Mag- 
dalene Islands  for  Labrador,  the  ultimatum  of  our  present 
desires.  About  ten  o'clock  we  saw  on  the  distant  horizon 
a  speck,  which  I  was  told  was  the  Rock  \  the  wind  now 
freshened,  and  I  could  soon  see  it  plainly  from  the  deck, 
the  top  apparently  covered  with  snow.  Our  pilot  said 
that  the  snow,  which  seemed  two  or  three  feet  thick,  waj 


Ganncts. 


3n 


the  white  gannets  which  resort  there.  I  rubbed  my  eyes, 
and  took  my  spy-glass,  and  instantly  the  strange  picture 
stood  before  me.  They  were  indeed  birds,  and  such  a 
mass  of  birds,  and  of  such  a  size  as  I  never  saw  before. 
The  wliole  of  my  party  were  astonished,  and  all  agieed 
that  it  was  worth  a  voyage  across  tlic  Bay  of  Fundy  ami 
the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  to  see  such  a  sight.  The  near- 
er we  approached,  the  greater  was  our  surprise  at  the 
enormous  number  of  these  birds,  all  caln\ly  seated  on 
their  eggs,  and  their  heads  turned  to  the  windward  towards 
us.  The  air  for  a  hundred  yards  above,  and  for  a  long 
distance  around,  was  filled  with  gannets  on  the  wing, 
which  from  our  position  made  the  air  look  as  if  it  was 
filled  with  falling  snowflakes,  and  caused  a  thick,  foggy- 
like  atmosphere  all  around  the  rock.  The  wind  was  too 
high  to  allow  us  to  land,  but  we  were  so  anxious  to  do  so 
that  some  of  the  party  made  the  attempt.  The  vessel 
was  brought  to,  and  a  small  whale-boat  launched,  and 
young  Lincoln  and  John  pushed  off  with  clubs  and 
guns  ;  the  wind  increased  and  rain  set  in,  but  they  gain- 
ed the  lee  of  the  rock,  but  after  an  hour's  absence  re- 
turned without  landing.  The  air  was  ^.lled  with  birds, 
but  they  did  not  perceptibly  diminish  the  numbers  on  the 
rock.  As  the  vessel  drifted  nearer  the  rock,  we  could  see 
that  the  birds  sat  so  close  as  almost  to  touch  one  another 
in  regular  lines,  looking  like  so  many  mole-hills.  The 
discharge  of  a  gun  had  no  effect  on  those  which  were 
not  touched  by  the  shot,  for  the  noise  of  the  birds  stunned 
all  those  out  of  reach  of  the  gun.  But  where  the  shot 
took  effect  the  birds  scrambled  and  flew  off  in  such  mul- 
titudes and  such  confusion  that,  whilst  eight  or  ten  were 
falling  in  the  water  dead  or  wounded,  others  shook 
down  their  eggs,  which  fell  into  the  sea  by  hundreds  in  all 
directions.  The  sea  became  rougher,  and  the  boat  was 
compelled  to  return,  bringing  some  birds  and  some  eggs. 


"H 

i^'' 


iV 


:<'' 


If ' 


[;,«! 


f 


n\. 


\m.^ 


m 
m 

»  1 


f 


HIS 


712 


Life  of  Audubon, 


n 


iHil'jl  i: 


::; 


>.     li! 


but  without  the  party  being  able  to  climb  the  rock. 

"The  top  of  the  main  rock  is  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide 

from  north  to  south,  and  a  little  narrower  from  east  to 
west ;  its  elevation  above  the  sea  is  between  three  and 
four  hundred  feet.  The  sea  dashes  around  it  with  great 
violence :  except  in  long  calms  it  is  extremely  difficult  to 
land  on  it,  and  much  more  difficult  to  climb  to  its  plat- 
form. The  whole  surface  was  perfectly  covered  with 
nests,  about  twc  feet  apart,  in  rows  as  regular  as  a  potato 
field.  The  fishermen  kill  these  birds  and  use  their  flesh 
for  bait  for  cod-fish.  The  crews^of  several  vessels  unite, 
and,  armed  with  clubs,  as  they  reach  the  top  of  the  rock 
the  birds  rise  with  a  noise  like  thunder,  and  attempt  to  fly 
in  such  hurried  confusion  as  to  knock  each  other  down, 
often  piling  one  on  another  in  a  bank  of  many  feet  thick- 
ness. The  men  beat  and  kill  them  until  they  have  ob- 
tained a  supply,  or  wearied  themselves.  Six  men  in  this 
way  have  Killed  five  or  six  hundred  in  one  hour.  The 
birds  are  skinned  and  cut  into  junks,  and  the  bait  keeps 
good  for  a  fortnight.  Forty  sail  of  fishermen  annually 
supply  themselves  with  bait  from  this  rock  in  this  way. 
By  the  twentieth  of  May  the  birds  lay  their  eggs,  and 
hatch  about  the  twentieth  of  June. 

"  June  17.  The  wind  is  blowing  a  gale,  and  nearly 
all  my  party  is  deadly  sick.  Thermometer  43°,  and  rain- 
ing nearly  all  day.  We  laid  to  all  night,  and  in  the  morn- 
ing were  in  sight  of  Anticosti  Island,  distant  about  twenty 
miles.     It  soon  became  thick,  and  we  lost  sight  of  it. 

"  yune  1 8.  The  weather  is  calm,  beautiful,  and  much 
warmer.  We  caught  many  cod-fish,  which  contained 
crabs  of  a  curious  structure.  At  six  p.  m.  the  wind 
sprung  up  fair,  and  we  made  all  sail  for  Labrador. 

"  yune  I9.  I  was  on  deck  at  three  o'clock  a.  m.,  and 
although  the  sun  was  not  above  the  horizon  it  was  quite 
light     The  sea  was  literally  covered  with  foolish  guille 


ndt 
it  to 

and 
;reat 
It  to 
plat- 
with 
otato 
flesh 
Linite, 
;  rock 
;  to  fly 
down, 
thick- 
ve  ob- 
in  this 
I    The 
keeps 
\nually 
way. 
and 

nearly 
d  rain- 
morn- 
twenty 

it. 
dmuch 
tained 
wind 

,,  and 

IS  quite 

guille 


Natasquan  River. 


3>3 


mots  playing  in  the  very  spray  under  our  bow,  plunging 
as  if  in  fun  under  it,  and  rising  like  spirits  close  under 
our  rudder.  The  wind  was  fair,  and  the  land  in  sight 
^rom  aloft,  and  I  now  look  forward  to  our  landing  on 
Labrador  as  at  hand,  and  my  thoughts  are  filled  with  ex- 
pectation of  the  new  knowledge  of  birds  and  animals 
which  I  hope  to  acquire  there.  The  Ripley  sails  well, 
but  now  she  fairly  skipped  over  the  water.  The  cry  of 
land  soon  made  my  heart  bound  with  joy ;  and  as  we  ap- 
proached it  we  saw  what  looked  like  many  sails  of  vessels, 
but  we  soon  found  that  they  were  snow-banks,  and  the 
air  along  the  shore  was  filled  with  millions  of  velvet 
ducks  and  other  aquatic  birds,  flying  in  long  files  a  few 
yards  above  the  water. 

"  We  saw  one  vessel  at  anchor,  and  the  country  looked 
well  from  the  distance ;  and  as  we  neared  the  shore  the 
thermometer  rose  from  44°  to  60",  yet  the  appearance  of 
the  snow-drifts  was  forbidding.  The  shores  appeared  to  be 
margined  with  a  broad  and  handsome  sand-beach,  and 
we  saw  imaginary  bears,  wolves  and  other  animals  scam- 
pering away  on  the  rugged  shore.  About  thirty  boats 
were  fishing,  and  we  saw  them  throwing  the  fish  on  deck 
by  thousands. 

"  We  soon  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Natasquan  Riv- 
er, where  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  have  a  fishing  estab- 
lishment, and  where  no  American  vessel  is  allowed  to 
come.  The  shore  was  filled  with  bark-covered  huts,  and 
some  vessels  were  anchored  within  the  sand-point  which 
forms  one  side  of  the  entrance  to  the  river.  We  sailed 
on  four  miles  further  to  the  American  harbor,  and  came  to 
anchor  in  a  beautiful  bay,  wholly  secure  from  any  winds. 

"  And  now  we  are  positively  at  Labrador,  lat.  50°,  and 

farther  north  than  I  ever  w?»s  before  on  this  continent. 

But  what  a  country !    When  we  landed  and  reached  the 

summit  we  sank  nearly  up  to  oi-r  knees  in  mosses  of  dif- 

U 


li 


% 


1m 

m 

14 


■^ 

|.|; 


3U 


Life  of  duduhon. 


ferent  sorts,  producing  such  a  sensation  as  1  never  fell 
before.  These  mosses  in  the  distance  look  like  hard 
rocks,  but  under  the  feet  they  feel  like  a  velvet  cushion. 
We  rambled  about  and  searched  in  vain  for  a  foot  of  square 
earth;  a  poor,  rugged,  and  miserable  country ;  the  trees 
are  wiry  and  scraggy  dwarfs ;  and  when  the  land  is  not 
rocky  it  is  boggy  to  a  man's  waist.  All  the  islands  about 
the  harbor  were  of  the  same  character,  and  we  saw  but 
few  land  birds,  one  pigeon,  a  few  hawks,  and  smaller 
birds.  The  wild  geese,  eider-ducks,  loons,  and  many 
other  birds  breed  here. 

"  June  19.  The  boats  went  off  to  neighboring  islands 
in  search  of  birds  and  eggs,  and  I  remained  all  day  on 
board  drawing.  Eggers  from  Halifax  had  robbed  nearly 
all  the  eggs. 

"The  eider-ducks  build  their  nests  under  the  scraggy 
boughs  of  the  fir-trees,  which  here  grow  only  a  few  inches 
above  the  ground.  The  nests  are  scraped  a  few  inches 
deep  in  the  rotten  moss  which  makes  the  soil,  and  the 
boughs  have  to  be  raised  to  find  the  nests.  The  eggs  are 
deposited  in  down,  and  covered  with  down,  and  keep 
warm  a  long  time  in  absence  of  the  duck.  They  com- 
monly lay  six  eggs. 

"  yune  20.  The  vessel  rolls  at  her  anchorage,  and  I 
have  drawn  as  well  as  I  could.  Our  party  has  gone  up 
the  Natasquan  in  search  of  adventures  and  birds.  It 
seems  strange  to  me  that  in  this  wonderfully  wild  ccuntry 
all  the  wild  birds  should  be  so  shy. 

"  yune  21.  To-day  I  went  four  miles  to  the  falls  of 
the  little  Natasquan  River.  The  river  is  small,  its  water 
dark  and  irony,  and  its  shores  impenetrable  woods,  ex- 
cept here  and  there  a  small  interval  overgrown  with  a 
wiry  grass,  unfit  for  cattle,  and  of  no  use  if  it  were,  for 
there  are  no  cattle  here.  We  saw  several  nets  in  the 
river  for  catching  salmon ;  they  are  stretched  across  the 


liii 


:r  fell 

hard 
ihion. 
(luare 

trees 

is  not 

about 

vw  but 

mailer 

many 

islands 
day  on 
.  nearly 

scraggy 
V  inches 
7  inches 
and  the 
iggs  are 
id  keep 
ley  com- 

!,  and  I 
[gone  up 
Irds.     It 

country 

falls  of 
bts  water 
|)ods,  ex- 
with  a 
^^ere,  for 
Is  in  the 
bross  the 


The  Egg  Trade, 


3'5 


f 


river,  and  the  fish  entangle  their  fins  in  trj'ing  to  pass 
them,  and  cannot  get  away.  We  visited  the  huts  of  the 
Canadian  fishermen  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company. 
They  are  clothed  and  fed,  and  receive  eight  dollars  a 
year  besides,  for  their  services.  They  have  a  cow,  an  ox, 
and  one  acre  of  potatoes  planted.  They  report  seven 
feet  of  snow  in  winter,  and  that  only  one-third  as  rr...iy 
salmon  are  taken  now  as  ten  years  ago ;  one  hunoictl 
barrels  now  is  regarded  as  a  fair  season.  This  river  is 
twelve  miles  long,  has  three  rapids,  is  broad,  swift,  and 
shallow,  and  discharges  a  quantity  of  fine  gravelly  sand. 

^^June  22.  Drew  all  day.  Thermometer  60°  at 
twelve.  We  are  so  far  north  that  we  have  scarcely  any 
darkness  at  night.  Our  party  visited  some  large  ponds 
on  a  neighboring  island  ;  but  they  had  neither  fish,  shells, 
nor  grass  about  them ;  the  shore  a  reddish  sand  :  saw 
only  a  few  toads,  and  those  pale-looking  and  poor.  The 
country  a  barren  rock  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  and 
mosses  of  several  species  were  a  foot  in  depth.  So  so- 
norous is  the  song  of  the  fox-colored  sparrow,  that  I 
heard  it  to-day  while  drawing  in  the  cabin,  from  the  dis- 
tance of  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  The  mosquitoes  and  black 
gnats  are  bad  on  shore. 

"  yune  23.  We  heard  to-day  that  a  party  of  four  men 
from  Halifax,  last  spring,  took  in  two  months  four  hun- 
dred thousand  eggs,  which  they  sold  in  Halifax  at  twenty 
five  cents  a  dozen.  Last  year  upwards  of  twenty  sail  of 
vessels  were  engaged  in  this  business ;  and  by  this  one 
may  form  some  idea  of  the  number  of  birds  annually  de- 
stroyed in  this  way,  to  say  nothing  of  the  millions  of  oth- 
ers disposed  of  by  the  numerous  fleet  of  fishermen  which 
yearly  come  to  these  regions,  and  lend  their  hand  to 
swell  the  devastation.  The  eggers  destroy  all  the  eggs 
that  are  sat  upon,  to  force  the  birds  to  lay  fresh  eggs,  and 
b)'  robbing  them  regularly  compel  them  to  lay  until  na* 


^i 


% 


lit! 


'II 


111 


l\X'\ 


ff 


316 


Life  of  Audubon. 


tuie  is  exhausted,  and  so  but  few  )'oung  ones  are  raised 
These  wonderful  nurseries  must  be  finally  destroyed,  and 
in  less  than  half  a  century,  unless  some  kind  government 
interposes  to  put  a  stop  to  all  this  shameful  destruction 
The  wind  blows  here  from  the  south-east,  and  it  brings 
ruin  continually." 

The  following  episode  epitomizes  what  Audubon  saw 
or  learned  about  the  men  engaged  in  hunting  eggs  on 
those  wild  and  desolate  islands. 


J'  X 
ft  if- 


DC-^^Q^IC^ 


iU^iv^P^ 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Labrador  Episodes  ;    The  Eggers  of  Labrador, 

HE  distinctive  appellation  of  *  eggers  '  is  given 
to  certain  persons  who  follow  principally  or  ex- 
clusively the  avocation  of  procuring  eggs  of  wild 
birds,  with  the  view  of  disposing  3f  them  at  some  distant 
port.  Their  great  object  is  to  pi.nder  every  nest,  when- 
ever they  can  find  it,  no  mattei  where,  and  at  whatever 
risk.  They  are  the  pest  of  the  feathered  tribes,  and  their 
brutal  propensity  to  destroy  the  poor  creatures  after  they 
have  robbed  them  is  abundaatly  gratified  whenever  an 
opportunity  presents  itseL'  Much  had  been  said  to  me 
respecting  these  destructive  pirates  before  I  visited  the 
coast  of  Labrador,  but  I  could  not  entirely  credit  al 
their  cruelties  until  I  had  actually  witnessed  their  pro 
ceedings,  which  were  such  as  to  inspire  no  small  degree 
of  horror.     But  }ou  shall  judge  for  yourself. 

"  See  yon  shallop  shyly  sailing  along ;  she  sneaks  like 
a  thief,  wishing,  as  it  were,  to  shun  the  very  light  of 
heaven.  Under  the  lee  of  every- rocky  isle  some  one  at 
the  tiller  steers  her  course. 

"  Were  his  trade  an  honest  one  he  'vould  not  think  of 
hiding  his  back  behind  the  terrific  rocks  that  seem  to 
ha\e  been  placed  there  as  a  resort  to  the  myriads  of  birds 
that  annually  visit  this  desolate  region  of  the  earth  for 
the  purpose  of  rearing  their  young  at  a  distance  from  aU 
disturbers  of  their  peace.  How  unlike  the  opeu,  bold, 
the  honest  mariner,  whose  face  needs  no  mask,  who 
scorns  to  skulk  under  any  circumstances  !  The  vessel 
herself  is  a  shabby  thing;  her  sails  are  patched  with 
stolen  pieces  of  better  canvas,  the  owners  of  which  have 


1:^ 


I 


! 


■M 


i 


V. 


r 

I* 


'■Mil. 

«1  £■'■  i' 


■■•Am  > 


.  m 


iir- 


J 


., :!  1  k  >  > 


J  "■: 


r 


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I'f        ;     5 


318 


Zj/"^  of  Auduhon, 


probably  been  stranded  on  some  inhospitable  coast,  and 
have  been  plundered,  perhaps  murdered,  by  the  wretches 
before  us.  Look  at  her  again.  Her  sides  are  neither 
painted  nor  even  pitched;  no,  they  are  daubed  over, 
plastered  and  patched  with  stripes  of  seal-skins,  laid 
along  the  seams.  Her  deck  has  never  been  washed  or 
sanded,  her  hold,  for  she  has  no  cabin,  though  at  present 
empty,  sends  forth  an  odor  pestilential  as  that  of  a  char- 
nel-house. The  crew,  eight  in  number,  lie  sleeping  at 
the  foot  of  their  tottering  mast,  regardless  of  the  repairs 
needed  in  every  part  of  her  rigging.  But  see  1  she  scuds 
along,  and,  as  I  suspect  her  crew  to  be  bent  on  the  com- 
mission of  some  evil  deed,  let  us  follow  her  to  the  first 
harbor.  There  rides  the  filthy  tLlug !  The  afternoon  is 
half  over.  Her  crew  have  thrown  their  boat  overboard  \ 
they  enter  and  seat  themselves,  one  with  a  rusty  gim. 
One  of  them  sculls  the  skiff  towards  an  island,  for  a  cen- 
tury past  the  breeding-place  of  myriads  of  guillemots, 
which  are  now  to  be  laid  under  contribution.  At  the  ap- 
proach of  the  vile  thieves,  clouds  of  birds  rise  from  the 
rock  and  fill  the  air  around,  wheeling  and  screaming 
over  their  enemies ;  yet  thousands  remain  in  an  erect 
posture,  each  covering  its  single  egg,  the  hope  of  both 
parents.  The  reports  of  several  musV.-ts  loaded  with 
heavy  shot  are  now  heard,  while  several  (''  j:1  and  wound- 
ed birds  fall  heavily  on  the  rock  or  into  un?  water.  In- 
stantly all  the  sitting  birds  rise  and  fly  oti  affrighted  to 
their  companions  above,  and  hover  in  dismay  over  their 
assassins,  who  walk  forward  exultingly,  and  with  their 
shouts  mingling  oaths  and  execrations.  Look  at  them  1 
See  how  they  crush  the  chick  within  its  shell !  how  they 
trample  on  every  egg  in  their  way  with  their  huge  and 
clumsy  boots  1  Onwards  they  go,  and  when  they  leave 
the  isle  not  an  egg  that  they  can  find  is  left  entire.  The 
dead  birds  they  collect  and  carry  to  their  boat.     Novj 


and 


^he  Egge^s  of  Labrador, 


3^9 


they  have  regained  their  filthy  shallop,  they  strip  the 
birds  by  a  single  jerk  of  their  feathery  apparel,  while  the 
flesh  is  yet  warm,  and  throw  them  on  some  coals,  where 
in  a  short  time  they  are  broiled :  the  rum  is  produced 
when  the  guillemots  are  fit  for  eating,  and  after  stuffing 
themselves  with  this  oily  fare,  and  enjoying  the  pleas- 
ures of  beastly  intoxication,  over  they  tumble  on  the 
deck  of  their  c.azed  craft,  where  they  pass  the  short 
hours  of  night  in  turbid  slumber.  The  sun  now  rises 
above  the  snow-clad  summit  of  the  eastern  mount ; 
'sweet  is  the  breath  of  morn,'  even  in  this  desolate  land. 
The  gay  bunting  erects  his  white  crest,  and  gives  utter- 
ance to  the  joy  he  feels  in  the  presence  of  his  brooding 
mate ;  the  willow  grouse  on  the  rock  crows  his  challenge 
aloud  ;  each  floweret,  chilled  by  the  night  air,  expands 
its  pure  petals  ;  the  gentle  breeze  shakes  from  the  blades 
of  grass  the  heavy  dewdrops.  On  the  Guillemot  Isle  the 
birds  have  again  settled,  and  now  renew  their  loves. 
Startled  by  the  light  of  day,  one  of  tiie  eggers  springs  on 
his  feet,  nnd  rouses  his  companions,  who  stare  around 
them  for  awhile,  endeavoring  to  recollect  their  senses. 
Mark  tliem,  as  with  clumsy  fingers  they  clear  their 
drowsy  eyes ;  slowly  they  rise  on  their  feet.  See  how 
the  lubbers  stretch  out  their  arms  and  yawn  ;  you  shrink 
back,  for  verily  *  that  throat  might  frighten  a  shark.'  But 
the  master,  soon  recollecting  that  so  many  eggs  are 
worth  a  dollar  or  a  crown,  casts  his  eye  towards  the  rock, 
marks  the  day  in  his  memory,  and  gives  orders  to  depart. 
The  light  breeze  enables  them  to  reach  another  harbor, 
a  few  miles  distant ;  one  which,  like  the  last,  lies  con 
cealed  from  the  ocean  by  some  other  rocky  isle.  Ar- 
rived there,  they  react  the  scene  of  yesterday,  crushing 
every  egg  they  can  find  For  a  week  each  night  is  pass- 
ed in  drunkenness  and  brawls,  until,  having  reached  the 
last  breeding  place  on  the  coast,  they  return,   touch  at 


I. 


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320 


Life  of  jiuduhon. 


every  isle  in  succession,  shoot  as  many  birds  as  they 
need,  collect  the  fresh  eggs,  and  lay  in  a  cargo.  At 
every  step  each  ruffian  picks  up  ai.  egg^  so  beautiful  that 
any  man  with  a  feeling  heart  would  pause  to  consider  the 
motive  which  could  induce  him  to  carry  it  off.  But  noth- 
ing of  this  sort  occurs  to  the  egger,  who  gathers  and 
gathers  until  he  has  swept  the  rock  bare.  The  dollars 
alone  chink  in  his  sordid  mind,  and  he  assiduously  plies 
the  trade  which  no  man  would  ply  who  had  the  talents 
and  industry  to  procure  subsistence  by  honorable  means. 
With  a  bark  nearly  filled  with  fresh  eggs  they  proceed  to 
the  principal  rock,  that  on  which  they  first  landed.  But 
what  is  their  surprise  when  they  find  others  there  helping 
themselves  as  industriously  as  they  can !  In  boiling  rage 
they  charge  their  guns,  and  ply  their  oars.  Landing  on 
the  rock,  they  run  up  to  the  eggers,  who,  like  themselves, 
are  desperadoes.  The  first  question  is  a  discharge  of 
musketry ;  the  answer  another :  now,  man  to  man,  they 
fight  like  tigers.  One  is  carried  to  his  craft  with  a  frac- 
tured skull,  another  limps  with  a  shot  in  his  leg,  and  a 
third  feels  how  many  of  his  teeth  have  been  driven 
through  the  hole  in  his  cheek.  At  last,  however,  the 
quarrel  is  settled,  the  booty  is  to  be  equally  divided  j  and 
now  see  them  all  drinking  together.  Oaths  and  curses 
and  filthy  jokes  are  all  that  you  hear  ;  but  see  !  stuffed 
with  food,  and  reeling  with  drink,  down  they  drop,  one 
by  one  ;  groans  and  execrations  from  the  wounded  mingle 
with  the  snorings  of  the  heavy  sleepers.  There  let  the 
brutes  lie !  Again  it  is  dawn,  but  no  one  Swlrs.  The  sur 
is  high  ;  one  by  one  they  open  their  heavy  eyes,  stretch 
their  limbs,  yawn  and  raise  themselves  from  the  deck. 
But  see  a  goodly  company.  A  hundred  honest  fisher- 
men, who  for  months  past  have  fed  on  salt  meat,  have 
felt  a  desire  to  procure  some  eggs.  Gallantly  their  boats 
advance,  impelled  by  the  regular  pull  of  their  long  oars. 


the 
1 :  and 


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Fishermen* J  parrels. 


J21 


Each  buoyant  bark  displays  the  flag  of  its  nation.  No 
weapon  do  they  bring,  nor  anytliing  that  can  be  used  as 
such,  save  their  oars  and  fists.  Cleanly  clad  in  Sunday 
attire,  they  arrive  at  the  desired  spot,  and  at  once  pre- 
pare to  ascend  the  rock.  The  eggers,  now  numbering  a 
dozen,  all  armed  with  guns  and  bludgeons,  bid  defiance 
to  the  fishermen.  A  few  angry  words  pass  between  the 
parties.  One  of  the  eggers,  still  under  the  influence  of 
drink,  pulls  his  trigger,  and  an  unfortunate  sailor  is  seen 
to  reel  in  agony.  Three  loud  cheers  fill  the  air.  All  at 
once  rush  on  the  malefactors  :  a  horrid  fight  ensues,  the 
result  of  which  is  that  every  egger  is  left  on  the  rock 
beaten  and  bruised.  Too  frequently  the  fishermen  man 
their  boats,  row  to  the  shallops,  and  break  every  egg  in 
the  hold.  The  eggers  of  Labrador  not  only  rob  the 
birds  in  this  cruel  manner,  but  also  the  fishermen,  when 
ever  they  can  find  an  opportunity ;  and  the  quarrels  the) 
excite  are  numberless.  While  we  were  on  the  coast  none 
of  our  party  ever  ventured  on  any  of  the  islands,  which 
these  wretches  call  their  own,  without  being  well  pro- 
vided with  means  of  defence.  On  one  occasion  when  I 
was  present  we  found  two  eggers  at  their  work  of  destruc- 
tion. I  spoke  to  them  respecting  my  visit,  and  offered 
them  premiums  for  rare  birds  and  some  of  their  eggs  ; 
but  although  they  made  fair  promises,  not  one  of  the  gang 
ever  came  near  the  Ripley.  These  people  gather  all  the 
eider-down  they  can  find,  yet,  so  inconsiderate  are  they, 
that  they  kill  every  bird  that  comes  in  their  way.  The 
puffins  and  some  other  birds  they  massacre  in  vast  num- 
bers for  the  sake  of  their  feathers.  The  eggs  of  gulls, 
guillemots,  and  ducks  are  searched  for  with  care  also. 
So  constant  and  persevering  are  their  depredations,  that 
these  species,  which,  according  to  the  accounts  of  the 
few  settlers  I  saw  in  the  country,  were  exceedingly  abun- 
dant twenty  years  ago,  have  abandoned  their  ancient 
U* 


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322 


Life  of  Audubon, 


breeding-places,  and  removed  much  farther  north,  in 
search  of  peaceful  security.  Scarcely,  in  fact,  could  ] 
procure  a  young  guillemot  before  the  eggers  had  left  the 
coast,  nor  was  it  until  late  in  July  that  I  succeeded,  after 
the  birds  had  laid  three  or  four  eggs  each  instead  of  one, 
and  when  nature  having  been  exhausted,  and  the  season 
nearly  spent,  thousands  of  these  birds  left  the  counti}! 
without  having  accomplished  the  purpose  for  which  they 
had  visited  it.  This  war  of  extermination  cannot  last 
many  years  more.  The  eggers  themselves  will  be  the 
first  to  repent  the  entire  disappearance  of  the  myriads  of 
birds  that  made  the  coast  of  Labrador  their  summer  resi- 
dence, and  unless  they  follow  the  persecuted  tribes  to  tha 
northward  they  must  renounce  their  trade." 


^^^^S^' 


{K 


m 


^ 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Notes  in  Labrador— Indians — Civilities  on  Board  the  Quebec  Cutter-^ 
The  Fur  Company— 'Sa' ere  Weather — Winds  and  Rain— 'Excur* 
sions  on  Shore^Hut  of  a  Labrador  Seal-Catcher — Great  Matth 
tine  Islands — Officers''  Bivouac  Ashore. 

UNE  23.  We  met  here  two  large  boats  loaded 
with  Mountaineer  Indians,  about  twenty,  old 
and  young,  male  and  female.  The  boats  had 
small  canoes  lashed  to  their  sides,  like  whale  boats,  for 
seal  fishing.  The  men  were  stout  and  good-looking,  and 
spoke  tolerable  French;  their  skins  were  redder  and 
clearer  than  any  other  Indians  I  have  ever  seen.  The 
women  also  appeared  cleaner  than  usual,  their  hair  was 
braided,  and  dangled  over  their  shoulders,  like  so  many 
short  ropes.  They  were  all  dressed  in  European  cos- 
tumes except  their  feet,  on  which  coarse  moccasins  made 
of  seal  skin  supplied  the  place  of  shoes. 

"  On  leaving  the  harbor  this  morning,  we  saw  a  black 
man-of-war-like  looking  vessel  entering  it,  bearing  the 
English  flag  ;  it  proved  to  be  the  Quebec  cutter.  I 
wrote  a  note  to  the  commander,  sent  him  my  card,  and 
requested  an  interview.  He  proved  to  be  Captain  Bay- 
field of  the  Royal  Navy,  the  vessel  was  the  Gulnare,  and 
he  replied  that  he  would  receive  me  in  two  hours.  After 
dinner,  taking  some  credentials  in  my  pocket,  I  went 
aboard  of  the  Gulnare,  was  politely  received,  and  intro- 
duced to  the  surgeon,  who  seemed  a  man  of  ability,  and 
is  a  student  of  botany  and  conchology.  Thus  the  lovers 
of  nature  meet  everywhere,  but  surely  I  did  not  expect  to 


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Life  of  Audubon. 


meet  a  naturalist  on  the  Labrador  station.  The  first 
lieutenant  is  a  student  of  ornithology,  and  is  making  col- 
lections. I  showed  a  letter  from  the  Duke  of  Sussex  to 
the  captain,  and  after  a  pleasant  hour,  and  a  promise 
from  him  to  do  anything  in  his  power  to  aid  us,  I  return- 
ed to  our  vessel. 

"  June  24.  It  was  our  intention  to  leave  this  harboi 
to-day  for  one  fifty  miles  east,  but  the  wind  is  ahead,  and 
I  have  drawn  all  day.  Shattuck  and  I  took  a  walk  over 
the  dreary  hills  towards  evening,  and  we  found  several 
flowers  in  bloom,  among  which  was  a  small  species  of 
the  Kulnua  Glauca.  We  visited  the  camp  of  the  Moun- 
taineer Indians  about  half  a  mile  from  us,  and  found 
them  skinning  seals,  and  preparing  their  flesh  for  use. 
We  saw  a  robe  the  size  of  a  good  blanket  made  of  seal 
skin,  and  tanned  so  soft  and  beautiful  with  tlie  hair  on, 
that  it  was  as  pleasant  to  the  touch  as  a  fine  kid  glove. 
They  refused  to  sell  it.  The  chief  of  this  party  is  well 
informed,  talks  French  so  as  to  be  understood,  is  a  fine- 
looking  fellow,  about  forty  years  old,  and  has  a  good- 
looking  wife  and  baby.  His  brother  also  is  married,  and 
has  several  sons  between  fourteen  and  twenty.  The 
whole  group  consists  of  about  twenty  perrons.  They 
came  and  saluted  us  soon  after  we  landed,  and  to  my  as- 
tonishment offered  us  a  glass  of  mm.  The  women  were 
all  seated  outside  of  their  tents,  unpacking  bundles  of 
clothing  and  provisions.  We  entered  one  tent,  and  seat- 
ed ourselves  before  a  blazing  fire,  the  smoke  of  which 
escaped  through  the  top  of  the  apartment.  To  the  many 
questions  I  put  to  the  chief  and  his  brother,  the  following 
is  the  substance  of  his  answers. 

"  The  country  from  this  place  to  the  nearest  settle- 
ment of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  is  as  barren  and 
rocky  as  this  about  us.  Very  large  lakes  of  water  abound 
two  hundred  miles  inland  from  the  sea  :  these  lakes  con- 


lettle- 
and 

lound 
con- 


Extermination  of  Animals. 


325 


tain  carp,  trout,  white  fisl:.  and  many  mussels  unfit  to 
eat ;  the  latter  are  describco  as  black  outside  and  purple 
within,  and  are  no  doubt  '  unios.'  Not  a  bush  is  to  be 
mrt  with  ;  and  the  Indians  who  now  and  then  cross  that 
region  carry  their  tent-poles  with  them,  and  also  their 
canoes,  and  burn  moss  for  fuel.  So  tedious  is  the  trav- 
elling said  to  be,  that  not  more  than  ten  miles  a  day  can 
be  accomplished,  and  when  the  journey  is  made  in  two 
months,  it  is  considered  a  good  one.  Wolves  and  black 
bears  abound,  but  no  deer  nor  caraboos  are  seen,  and 
not  a  bird  of  any  kind  except  wild  geese  and  brants 
about  the  lakes,  where  they  breed.  When  the  journey  is 
undertaken  in  winter,  they  go  on  snow  shoes,  without 
canoes.  Fur  animals  are  scarce,  but  a  few  beavers  and 
otters,  martins  and  sables,  are  caught,  and  some  foxes  ird 
lynxes,  while  their  numbers  yearly  diminish.  Thus  the 
Fur  Company  may  be  called  the  exLerminating  medium 
of  these  wild  and  almost  uninlnbitable  regions,  which  cu- 
pidity or  the  love  of  money  alone  would  induce  man  to 
venture  into.  Where  can  I  now  go  and  find  nature  un- 
disturbed 1 

"  yune  25.  Drawing  all  day  until  five  o'clock,  when 
I  went  to  dine  on  board  the  Gulnare ;  quite  a  bore  to 
shave  and  dress  in  Labrador.  The  company  consisted 
of  the  captain,  doctor,  and  three  other  officers ;  we  had  a 
good  sea  dinner,  cod  and  mutton,  good  wine  and  some 
excellent  snuff,  of  which  I  took  a  pinch  or  two.  Conver-. 
sation  turned  on  Botany,  politics,  and  the  Established 
Church  of  England,  and  ranged  away  to  hatching  eggs 
by  steam.  I  saw  the  maps  the  officers  are  making  of 
the  coast,  and  was  struck  with  the  great  accuracy  of  the 
shape  of  our  perfect  harbor.  I  returned  to  our  vessel  at 
ten  in  the  evening ;  the  weather  is  warm,  and  the  mo& 
quitoes  abundant  and  hungry. 

"  June  26.  We  have  now  been  waiting  five  days  foi 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


IX 


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a  fair  wind  to  take  us  eastward  in  our  explorations.  The 
waters  of  all  the  streams  we  have  seen  are  of  a  rusty  col- 
or, probably  derived  from  the  decomposing  mosses  which 
form  the  soil  on  the  rocks.  The  rivers  seem  to  be  the 
drain  from  swamps  fed  by  rain  and  melting  snow ;  the 
ooil  in  the  low  grounds  is  of  quite  a  peaty  nature.  The 
freshets  take  down  sand  and  gravel  from  the  decom- 
posed rocks,  and  form  bars  at  the  mouths  of  all  the 
rivers.  Below  the  mouth  of  each  stream  is  the  best  fish- 
ing ground  for  cod  fish.  They  accumulate  there  to  feed 
on  the  fry  which  run  into  the  rivers  to  deposit  their  spawn, 
and  which  they  follow  again  to  sea,  when  they  return  to 
strike  out  into  deep  water. 

"  It  is  quite  remarkable  how  shy  the  agents  of  the 
Fur  Company  here  are  of  strangers.  They  refused  to 
sell  me  a  salmon  :  and  one  of  them  told  me  he  would  be 
discharged  if  it  were  known  he  had  done  so.  They 
evade  all  questions  respecting  the  interior  of  the  country, 
and  indeed  tell  the  most  absurd  things,  to  shock  you,  and 
cut  short  inquiries  This  is  probably  to  prevent  stran- 
gers from  settling  here,  or  interfering  with  their  monop- 
oly. " 

Much  of  the  journal  of  these  dates  in  Labrador  is 
taken  up  with  an  account  of  the  birds,  and  nests,  and 
eggs  found  here,  and  matters  relating  to  ornithology. 
But  as  these  notes  were  used  by  Mr.  Audubon  in  compi- 
ling his  "  Biographies  of  the  Birds,"  we  have  omitted 
them  here,  and  used  only  that  part  of  the  records  which 
have  a  more  general  interest. 

"  ^une  27.  The  morning  dawned  above  rain  and  fogs, 
which  so  enveloped  us  below  that  we  could  scarcely  dis- 
cern the  shore,  distant  only  a  hundred  yards.  Drawing 
all  day. 

"  ^une  28.  The  weather  shocking,  rainy,  foggy,  dark, 
and  cold.     Began  drawing  a  new  finch  I  discovered,  and 


I    ! 


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outlined  another.  At  twelve  the  wind  ?^  iddcnly  changed^ 
and  caused  such  a  swell  and  rolling  of  the  vessel,  that  I 
had  to  give  up  my  drawing.  After  dinner  the  wind 
hauled  to  the  south-west,  and  all  was  bustle,  heaving  up 
anchor,  loosing  sails,  and  getting  ready  for  sea.  We 
were  soon  under  weight  and  went  out  of  the  harbor  in 
good  style  ;  but  the  sea  was  high,  and  we  were  glad  to  go 
to  our  beds. 

"  ^une  29.  At  three  o'clock  this  morning  we  were 
about  fifteen  miles  from  land,  and  fifty  from  American 
Harbor.  The  thermometer  was  54'',  and  the  wind  light 
and  favorable  ;  at  ten  the  breeze  freshened,  but  our  pilot 
did  not  know  the  land,  and  the  captain  had  to  find  a  har- 
bor for  himself  We  passed  near  an  island  covered  with 
foolish  guillemots,  and  came  to  for  the  purpose  of  landing 
on  it,  which  we  did  through  a  great  surf;  there  we  found 
two  eggers  searching  the  rocks  for  eggs.  They  told  us 
they  visited  all  the  islands  in  the  vicinity,  and  obtained 
fresh  eggs  every  day.  They  had  eight  hundred  dozen, 
and  expected  to  increase  them  to  two  thousand  dozen 
before  they  returned  to  Halifax.  The  quantities  of  bro- 
ken eggs  on  this  and  all  the  islands  where  eggs  are 
obtained,  causes  a  stench  which  is  scarcely  endurable. 
From  this  island  we  went  to  another  about  a  mile  distant, 
and  caught  many  birds  and  collected  many  eggs. 

"  y^um  30.  I  have  drawn  three  birds  to-day  since  eight 
o'clock.     Thermometer  50°. 

"  yu/y  I.  The  thermometer  48°,  and  the  weather  so 
cold  that  it  has  been  painful  for  me  to  draw,  but  I  worked 
all  day. 

"  y«/v  2.  A  beautiful  day  for  Labrador.  Went  ashore 
and  killed  nothing,  but  was  pleased  with  what  I  saw. 
The  country  is  so  grandly  wild  and  desolate,  that  I  am 
charmed  by  its  wonderful  dreariness.  Its  mossy  gray* 
clpd  rocks,  heaped  and  thrown  together  in  huge  masses, 


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Life  of  Audubon, 


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hanging  on  smaller  ones,  as  if  about  to  roll  down  from 
♦Jieir  insecure  resting-places  into  the  sea  below  them. 
Bays  without  end,  sprinkled  with  thousands  of  rocky 
inlets  of  all  sizes,  shapes,  and  appearances,  and  wild 
birds  everywhere,  was  the  scene  presented  before  me. 
besides  this  there  was  a  peculiar  cast  of  the  uncertain 
sky,  butterflies  flitting  over  snow-banks,  and  probing  un- 
folding dwarf  flowerets  of  many  hues  pushing  out  their 
tender  stems  through  the  thick  beds  of  moss  which  every- 
where covertj  the  granite  rock.  Then  there  is  the  morass, 
wherein  you  plunge  up  to  your  knees,  or  the  walking  over 
the  stubborn,  dwarfish  shrubbery,  whereby  one  treads 
down  the  forests  of  Labrador  ;  and  the  unexpected  bunt- 
ing or  Sylvia  which  perchance,  and  indeed  as  if  by  chance 
alone,  you  now  and  then  see  flying  before  you,  or  hear 
singing  from  the  ground  crc  ig  plant.  The  beautiful 
fresh-water  lakes,  deposited  ..e  rugged  crests  of  great- 
ly elevated  islands,  wherein  the  red  and  black  divers 
swim  as  proudly  as  swans  do  in  other  latitudes ;  and 
wherein  the  fish  appear  to  have  been  cast  as  strayed  be- 
ings from  the  surplus  food  of  the  sea.  All,  all  is  wonder- 
fully wild  and  grand,  ay,  terrific.  And  yet  how  beautiftil 
it  is  now,  when  your  eye  sees  the  wild  bee,  moving  from 
one  flower  to  another  in  search  of  food,  which  doubtless 
is  as  sweet  to  her  as  the  essence  of  the  orange  and  mag- 
nolia is  to  her  more  favored  sister  in  Louisiana.  The 
little  ring-plover  rearing  its  delicate  and  tender  young ; 
the  eider  duck  swimming  man-of-war-like  amid  hei  float- 
ing brood,  like  the  guard-ship  of  a  most  valuable  convoy ; 
the  white-crowned  bunting's  sonorous  note  reaching  your 
ears  ever  and  anon  ;  the  crowds  of  sea-birds  in  search  of 
places  wherein  to  repose  or  to  feed.  I  say  how  beautiful 
all  this,  in  this  wonderful  rocky  desert  at  this  season,  the 
beginning  of  July,  compared  with  the  horrid  blasts  ol 
winter  which  here  predominate  by  the  will  of  God  ;  when 


Rough  fVeatner, 


3^9 


every  rock  iti  hidden  beneath  snow  so  deep,  that  every 
itep  the  traveller  takes,  he  is  in  danger  of  falling  in  his 
grave  ;  while  avalanches  threaten  him  from  above,  and  if 
he  lifts  his  eyes  to  the  horizon,  he  sees  nothing  but  dark 
clouds  filled  with  frost  and  snow,  and  inspiring  him  with 
a  feeling  of  despair. 

"  Ju/i/  3.  We  have  had  a  stiff  easterly  win  i  all  day, 
rainy,  and  the  water  so  rough  we  could  not  go  ashore,  for 
plants  to  draw,  until  late  in  the  afternoon.  The  view  of 
the  sea  from  the  highest  rocks  was  grand,  the  small  islands 
were  covered  with  the  foam  and  surf  thrown  up  by  the 
agitated  ocean.  Thank  God  that  we  are  not  tossing  on 
its  billows. 

"  ^u/y  4.  Two  parties  went  out  to-day  to  get  birds  and 
plants,  nd  I  remained  on  board  all  day  drawing.  Cap- 
tain Bayfield  sent  us  a  quarter  of  mutton  for  our  fourth 
of  July  dinner,  and  I  dare  say  it  is  a  rarity  on  this  coast 
of  Labrador,  even  on  this  day. 

"  y«/j'  5.  Thermometer  $0^.  I  drew  from  four  o'clock 
this  morning  until  three  this  afternoon,  and  then  went  on 
an  expedition  for  a  few  miles  to  a  large  rough  island, 
which  I  traversed  until  I  was  weary,  for  walking  on  this 
spongy  moss  of  Labrador  is  a  task  no  one  can  imagine 
without  trying  it ;  at  every  step  the  foot  sinks  in  a  deep 
moss  cushion,  which  closes  over  it,  and  requires  consid- 
erable exertion  to  draw  it  up.  When  the  moss  is  over  a 
marshy  tract,  then  you  sink  a  couple  of  feet  deep  every 
step  you  take,  and  to  reach  a  bare  rock  is  delightful,  and 
quite  a  relief.  This  afternoon  the  country  looked  more 
terrifyingly  wild  than  ever,  the  dark  r'ouds  throwing  their 
shadows  on  the  stupendous  masses  of  run^ged  rocks,  pre- 
sented one  of  the  wildest  pictures  of  nature  that  the  eye 
can  find  to  look  on  anywhere. 

"  3^ufy  6.  Tliermometer  48°.  At  noon  my  fingers 
were  so  coM  that  I  could  no  longer  hold  my  pencil  tc 


!fi 


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330 


Life  of  Audubon, 


k 


i  I 


draw,  and  I  was  compelled  to  go  on  shore  for  exercise. 
The  fact  is  I  am  growing  old  too  fast,  alas  !  I  feel  it,  and 
yet  work  I  will,  and  may  God  grant  me  life  to  see  the  last 
plate  of  my  mammoth  work  finished. 

"  ^uly  7.  Drawing  all  day  ;  finished  the  female  grouse 
and  five  young  ones,  and  preparing  the  male  bird. 

"y«/y  8.  Rainy,  dirty  weather,  wind  east,  thermome- 
ter 48°.  Began  drawing  at  half-past  three  a.m,  but  my 
condition  very  disagreeable  in  such  weather.  The  fog 
collects  and  falls  in  large  drops  from  the  rigging  on  my 
table,  and  now  and  then  I  am  obliged  to  close  the  sky- 
light, and  work  almost  in  darkness.  Notwithstanding,  I 
have  finished  my  plate  of  the  cock  ptarmigan. 

"  yuly  9.  The  wind  east,  wet,  disagreeable,  and  foggy. 
This  is  the  most  wonderful  climate  in  the  world  ;  the 
thermometer  52",  mosquitoes  in  profusion,  plants  bloom- 
ing by  millions,  and  at  every  step  you  tread  on  flowers 
such  as  would  be  looked  on  in  more  temperate  climates 
with  pleasure.  I  only  wish  I  could  describe  plants  as 
well  as  I  can  the  habits  of  birds.  I  have  drawn  all  day 
on  the  loon,  a  most  difficult  bird  to  imitate. 

"  y^^y  lO'  Thermometer  54°.  Could  I  describe  one 
of  those  dismal  gales  which  blow  ever  and  anon  over  this 
dismal  country,  it  would  probably  be  interesting  *o  any 
one  unacquainted  with  the  inclemency  of  this  chmate. 
Nowhere  else  are  the  north-east  blasts,  which  sweep  over 
Labrador,  felt  as  they  are  here.  But  I  cannot  describe 
them.  All  I  can  say  is,  that  while  we  are  safe  in  a  land- 
locked harbor,  their  effects  on  our  vessel  are  so  strong, 
that  they  will  not  allow  me  to  draw,  and  sometimes  send 
some  of  us  to  our  beds.  And  what  the  force  o.  these 
horrid  blasts  outside  of  the  harbor  at  sea  is  I  can  hardly 
imagine  ;  but  it  seems  as  if  it  would  be  impossible  for  any 
vessel  to  ride  safely  before  them,  and  that  they  will  rend 
these  rocky  islands  asunder.     The  rain  is  driven  in  sheets. 


.•.^^, 


Effects  of  the  Storm. 


and  falls  with  difficulty  upon  its  destination  of  sea  or  land. 
Nay,  I  cannot  call  it  rain,  as  it  is  such  a  thick  cloud  of 
water,  that  all  objects  at  a  distance  are  lost  sight  of  at 
intervals  of  three  or  four  minutes,  and  the  waters  around 
us  come  up  and  beat  about  in  our  rock-bound  harbor,  as 
a  newly  caught  and  caged  bird  beats  against  the  wire 
walls  of  his  prison  cage. 

"July  II.  The  gale  or  hurricane  of  yesterday  subsi- 
ded about  midnight,  and  at  sunrise  this  morning  the  sky 
was  clear  and  the  horizon  fiery  red.  It  was  my  inten- 
tion to  have  gone  one  hundred  miles  further  north,  but 
our  captain  says  I  must  be  roiitent  here. 

"  On  rambling  over  the  numerous  bays  and  inlets, 
which  are  scattered  by  thousands  along  this  coast,  as 
pebbles  are  on  a  common  sand  beach,  one  sees  immense 
beds  of  round  stones  (boulders  ?)  of  all  sizes,  and  some 
of  large  dimensions,  rolled  side  by  side,  and  piled  up  in 
heaps,  as  if  cast  there  by  some  great  revolution  of  nature. 
I  have  seen  many  such  places,  and  always  look  on  them 
with  astonishment,  because  they  seem  to  have  been  vom- 
ited up  by  the  sea,  and  cast  hundreds  of  yards  inland,  by 
its  powerful  etchings  ;  and  this  gives  some  idea  of  what 
a  hurricane  at  Labrador  can  do. 

"  ^uly  12.  Thermometer  48°,  and  it  is  raining  hard, 
and  blowing  another  gale  from  the  east,  and  the  vessel 
rocks  so  much  that  I  am  imable  to  finish  my  drawing. 

**  y///v  13.  Rose  this  morning  at  half-past  three,  and 
found  the  wind  north-east,  and  but  little  of  it.  The 
weather  is  cloudy  and  dull,  as  it  is  always  here  after  a 
storm.  I  was  anxious  to  stay  on  board,  and  finish  the 
di awing  of  a  grouse  I  had  promised  to  Dr.  Kelly  of  the 
Gulnare.  But  at  seven  the  wind  changed,  and  we  pre- 
pared to  leave  our  fine  harbor.  We  beat  out  to  sea,  and 
made  our  course  for  the  harbor  of  Little  Macatine,  dis- 
tant forty-three  miles.     By  noon  the  wind  died  away,  but 


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332 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


the  sea  rolled,  and  we  were  all  sea-sick,  and  glad  to  go  to 
our  berths. 

"  yuly  14.  Awoke  this  morning  to  find  a  cold  north- 
east wind  blowing,  and  ourselves  twenty  miles  from  our 
destination,  a  heavy  sea  beating  against  the  vessel's  bows, 
as  she  is  slowly  beating  tack  after  tack  against  the  wind. 
We  are  in  despair  of  reaching  our  destination  to-day. 
Towards  evening  however  the  wind  favored  us,  and  as  we 
approached  the  island,  it  proved  the  highest  land  we  have 
seen,  and  looked  rugged  and  horrid. 

"When  we  came  within  a  mile  and  ahalf  of  the  shore 
we  took  a  small  boat,  and  pushed  off  for  the  land.  As 
we  came  near  it,  the  rocks  appeared  stupendously  high 
and  rough,  and  frowned  down  on  our  little  boat,  as  we 
moved  along  and  doubled  the  little  cape  which  made  one 
side  of  the  entrance  of  Macatine's  Harbor,  but  it  looked 
so  small  to  me,  that  I  doubted  if  it  were  the  place ;  and 
the  shores  were  horribly  wild,  fearfully  high  and  rough, 
and  nothing  but  the  croaking  of  a  pair  of  ravens  was 
heard  mingling  with  the  dismal  sound  of  the  surge  which 
dashed  on  the  rocky  ledges,  and  sent  the  foaming  water 
into  the  air. 

"  By  the  time  we  reached  the  shore  the  wind  began  to 
freshen,  the  Ripley's  sails  nov/  swelled,  and  she  cut  her 
way  through  the  water,  and  rounded  the  point  of  land 
which  formed  part  of  the  harbor,  and  shot  ahead  towards 
the  place  where  we  were  standing.  Our  harbor  repre- 
sents the  bottom  of  a  large  bowl,  in  the  centre  of  which 
our  vessel  is  anchored,  surrounded  by  rocks  full  a  thou- 
sand feet  high,  and  the  wildest  looking  place  I  was  ever 
in.  We  went  aboard,  ate  a  hasty  supper,  and  all  scam- 
pered ashore  again,  and  climbed  the  nearest  hills.  But 
John,  Shattuck,  and  myself  went  up  the  harbor,  and  as- 
cended to  the  top  of  a  mountain  (for  I  cannot  call  it  a 
hill),  and  there  we  saw  the  crest  of  the  island  beneath  om 


Macatine  Harbor* 


333 


feet,  all  rocks,  barren,  bare  rocks,  wild  as  the  wildest 
Apennines.  The  moss  was  only  a  few  inches  deep,  and 
the  soil  beneath  it  so  moist,  that  whenever  the  declivities 
were  much  inclined,  the  whole  slipped  from  under  us  like 
an  avalanche,  and  ''own  we  would  slide  for  feet,  and 
sometimes  yards.  The  labor  of  climbing  was  excessive, 
and  at  the  bottom  of  each  ravine  the  scrub  bushes  inter- 
cepted us  for  twenty  or  thirty  paces,  and  we  scrambled 
over  them  with  grenl  effort  and  fatigue.  On  our  return 
we  made  one  slide  of  forty  or  fifty  feet,  and  brought  up 
in  a  little  valley  or  pit  filled  with  moss  and  mire. 

"  ^u/y  15.  We  rose  and  breakfasted  at  three  o'clock, 
every  one  being  eager  to  go  ashore  and  explore  this  wild 
country.  But  the  wind  was  east,  and  the  prospects  of 
fine  weather  not  good.  But  two  boats'  crews  of  young 
men  rowed  off  in  different  directions,  while  I  renewed  my 
drawing.     By  ten  the  rain  poured,  and  the  boats  returned. 

"  yw/y  16.  Another  day  of  dirty  weather,  and  obliged 
to  remain  on  board  nearly  all  the  day.  Thermometer 
52*^,  mosquitoes  plent}'.  This  evening  the  fog  is  so  thick, 
that  we  cannot  see  the  summit  of  the  rocks  around  us. 

"  y«/y  17.  Mosquitoes  so  annoyed  me  last  night  that 
I  did  not  close  my  eyes.  I  tried  the  deck  of  the  vessel, 
and  although  the  fog  was  as  thick  as  fine  rain,  the  air  was 
filled  with  these  insects,  and  I  went  below  and  fought 
them  until  daylight,  when  I  had  a  roaring  fire  made  and 
got  rid  of  them.  I  have  been  drawing  part  of  the  day, 
and  besides  several  birds,  I  have  outlined  one  of  the 
mountainous  hills  near  our  vessel,  as  a  back-ground  to  my 
willow  grouse. 

"  y«^  18.  After  breakfast,  all  hands  except  the  cook 
left  the  Ripley,  in  three  boats,  to  visit  the  main  shore, 
about  five  miles  off.  The  fog  was  thick,  but  the  wind 
promised  fair  weather,  and  soon  fulfilled  its  promise. 
Directly  after  landing  our  party  found  a  large  extent  of 


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334 


Life  of  Audubon. 


marsh  land,  the  first  we  have  seen  in  this  country  ;  the 
soil  was  wet,  our  feet  sank  in  it,  and  walking  was  tire- 
some. We  also  crossed  a  large  savannah  of  many  miles 
in  extent.  Its  mosses  were  so  wet  and  spongy,  that  1 
never  in  my  life  before  experienced  so  much  difficulty  in 
travelling.  In  many  places.  >.he  soil  appeared  to  wave 
and  bend  under  us  like  old  ice  in  the  spring  of  the  year 
and  we  expected  at  each  step  to  break  through  the  sur* 
face,  and  sink  into  the  mire  below.  In  the  middle  of  this 
quagmire  we  met  with  a  fine  small  grove  of  good-sized 
white  birch  trees,  and  a  few  pines  full  forty  feet  high 
quite  a  novelty  in  this  locality. 

"  From  the  top  of  a  high  rock  I  obtained  a  good  view 
of  the  most  extensive  and  dreary  wilderness  I  ever  be- 
held. It  chilled  the  heart  to  gaze  on  these  barrens  of 
Labrador.  Indeed  I  now  dread  every  change  of  harbor, 
so  horridly  rugged  and  dangerous  is  the  whole  coast  and 
country  to  the  eye,  and  to  the  experienced  man  either  of 
the  sea  or  the  land.  Mosquitoes,  many  species  of  horse- 
flies, small  bees,  and  black  gnats  fill  the  air.  The  frogs 
croaked,  and  yet  the  thermometer  was  not  above  55°. 
This  is  one  of  the  real  wonders  of  this  extraordinary 
country.  The  parties  in  the  boats,  hunting  all  day, 
brought  back  but  nineteen  birds,  and  we  all  concluded 
that  no  one  man  could  provide  food  for  himself  here  from 
the  land  alone. 

"  J^uly  19.  Cold,  wet,  blowing,  and  too  much  motion 
of  the  vessel  for  drawing.  In  the  evening  it  cleared  up 
a  little,  and  I  went  ashore,  and  visited  the  hut  of  a  seal- 
fisher.  We  climbed  over  one  rocky  precipice  and  fissure 
after  another,  holding  on  to  the  moss  with  both  hands 
and  feet,  for  about  a  mile,  when  we  came  to  the  deserted 
hut  of  a  Labrador  seal-catcher.  It  looked  snug  outside, 
and  we  walked  in  ;  it  was  floored  with  short  slabs,  all 
very  well  greased  with  seal  oil.     A  fire-oven  without  a 


/ 


One  Fine  Day. 


33  S 


pipe,  a  salt-box  hung  to  a  wooden  peg,  a  three-legged 
stool  for  a  table,  and  wooden  box  for  a  bedstead,  were  all 
its  furniture.  An  old  flour-barrel,  containing  some  hun- 
dreds of  seine  floats,  and  an  old  seal  seine,  comprised 
the  assets  of  goods  and  chattels.  Three  small  windows, 
with  four  panes  of  glass  each,  were  still  in  pretty  good 
order,  and  so  was  the  low  door,  which  swung  on  vooden 
hinges,  for  which  I  will  be  bound  the  maker  had  asked 
for  no  patent.  The  cabin  was  made  of  hewn  logs, 
brought  from  the  mainland,  about  twelve  feet  square,  and 
well  put  together.  It  was  roofed  with  birch  bark  and 
spruce,  well  thatched  with  moss  a  foot  thick;  every 
chink  was  crammed  with  moss,  and  every  aperture  render- 
ed air-tight  with  oakum.  But  it  was  deserted  and  aban- 
doned. The  seals  are  all  caught,  and  the  sailors  have 
nothing  to  do  now-a-days.  We  found  a  pile  of  good  hard 
wood  close  to  the  cabin,  and  this  we  hope  to  appro- 
priate to-morrow.  I  found  out  that  the  place  had  been 
inhabited  by  two  Canadians,  by  the  chalk  marks  on  the 
walls,  and  their  almanac  on  one  of  the  logs  ran  thus  :  L 
24,  M  25,  M  26,  I  27,  V  28,  S  29,  D  3o,  giving  the  first 
letter  of  the  day  of  the  week.  On  returning  to  the  ves- 
sel, I  stopped  several  times  to  look  on  the  raging  waves 
rolling  in  upou  the  precipitous  rocks  below  us,  and  thought 
how  dreadful  it  would  be  for  any  one  to  be  wrecked  on 
this  inhospitable  shore.  The  surges  of  surf  which  rolled 
in  on  the  rocks  were  forty  or  fifty  feet  high  where  they 
dashed  on  the  precipices  beneath  us,  and  any  vessel  cast 
ashore  there  must  have  been  immediately  dashed  to 
pieces. 

"^u/y  20.  The  country  of  Labrador  deserves  credit  foi 
one  fine  day.  This  has  been,  until  evening,  calm,  warm, 
and  really  such  a  day  as  one  might  expect  in  the  Middle 
States  about  the  middle  jf  May.  I  drew  until  ten 
o'clock,  and  then  made  a  trip  to  the  island  next  to  us 


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33^ 


Life  of  Audubon, 


and  shot  several  birds.  We  passed  several  small  bays, 
where  we  found  vast  quantities  of  stones  thrown  up  by 
the  sea,  and  some  of  them  of  enormous  size.  I  now 
think  that  these  stones  are  brought  from  the  sea  on  the 
thick  drift  ice,  or  icebergs,  which  come  down  from  the 
arctic  regions,  and  are  driv»,n  in  here  and  broken  by  the 
jagged  rocks ;  they  are  stranded,  and  melt,  and  leave 
tliese  enormous  p'jbbles  in  layers  from  ten  to  one  hundred 
feet  deep. 

"July  21.  I  T  „ice  now  from  a  harbor  which  has  no 
name,  for  we  have  mistaken  it  for  tlie  one  we  were  look- 
ing for,  which  lies  two  miles  east  of  this.  But  it  matters 
little,  for  the  coast  of  Labrador  is  all  alike,  comfortless, 
cold,  and  foggy.  We  left  the  Little  Macatine  this  morning 
at  five  o'clock,  with  a  stiff  south-west  breeze,  and  by  ten 
dropped  anchor  where  we  now  are.  As  we  doubled  the 
cape  of  the  island  called  Great  Macatine,  we  had  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  the  officers  of  the  Gulnare,  in  two 
boats,  engaged  in  surveying  the  coast.  We  made  an  ex- 
cursion into  the  island,  but  found  nothing  of  interest. 

"  In  the  evening  we  visited  the  officers  of  the  Gulnare, 
encamped  in  tents  on  shore,  living  in  great  comfort ;  the 
tea-things  were  yet  on  the  iron  bedstead  which  served  as 
a  table,  the  trunks  formed  their  seats,  and  the  clothes- 
bags  their  cushions  and  pillows.  Their  tent  was  made 
of  tarred  cloth,  which  admitted  neither  wind  nor  rain.  It 
was  a  comfortable  camp,  and  we  were  pleased  to  find 
ourselves  on  the  coast  of  Labrador  in  company  with  in- 
telligent officers  of  the  royal  navy  of  England,  gentlemen 
of  education  and  refined  manners  ;  it  was  indeed  a  treat, 
a  precious  one.  We  talked  of  the  wild  country  around 
us,  and  of  the  enormous  destruction  of  everything  which 
is  going  on  here,  except  of  the  rocks ;  of  the  aborigines, 
who  are  melting  away  before  the  encroachments  of  a 
stronger  race,  as  the  wild  animals  are  disappearing  before 


Whale  Fishers, 


337 


bays, 
ip  by 
[  now 
Dn  the 
m  the 
by  the 
leave 
indred 

las  no 
e  look- 
natters 
brtless, 
lorning 
by  ten 
(led  the 
lad  the 
in  two 
an  ex- 
■est. 

lulnare, 
rt;   the 
rved  as 
clothes- 
made 
rain.   It 
to  find 
with  in- 
ntlemen 
a  treat, 
around 
g  which 
)rigines, 
Its  of  a 
before 


them.  Some  one  said,  it  is  rum  which  is  destroying  the 
poor  Indians.  I  replied,  I  think  not,  they  are  disappear* 
ing  here  from  insufficiency  of  food  and  physical  comforts, 
and  the  loss  of  all  hope,  as  he  loses  sight  of  all  that  was 
abundant  before  the  white  man  came,  intruded  on  his 
land,  and  his  herds  of  wild  animals,  and  deprived  him  of 
the  furs  with  which  he  clothed  himself.  Nature  herself 
is  perishing.  Labrr.dor  must  shortly  be  depopulated,  not 
only  of  her  aboriginal  men,  but  of  every  thing  and  ani- 
mal which  has  life,  and  attracts  the  cupidity  of  men. 
When  her  fish,  and  game,  and  birds  are  gone,  she  will  be 
left  alone  like  an  old  worn-out  field." 

"  ^u/y  22.  This  morning  Captain  Bayfield  and  his 
officers  came  alongside  to  bid  us  good-bye,  to  pursue  their 
labors  fiirther  westward.  After  breakfast  we  manned 
three  boats,  and  went  to  explore  a  small  harbor  about 
one  mile  east  of  our  anchorage.  There  we  found  a  whal- 
mg  schooner,  fifty-five  tons  burthen,  from  Cape  Gaspe. 
We  found  the  men  employed  in  boiling  blubber  in  a  large 
iron  vessel  like  a  sugar-boiler.  The  blubber  lay  in  heaps 
on  the  shon ,  in  junks  of  six  or  eight  pounds  each,  look- 
ing filthy  en'  'Ugh.  The  captain  or  owner  of  the  vessel 
appeared  to  De  a  good  sensible  man  of  his  class,  and  cut 
off  for  me  some  strips  of  the  whale's  skin  from  under  the 
throat,  with  large  and  curious  barnacles  attached  to  the 
skin.  They  had  struck  four  whales,  and  three  had  sunk, 
and  were  lost  to  them.  This,  the  men  said,  was  a  very 
rare  occurrence.  We  found,  also,  at  this  place,  a  French 
Canadian  seal-catcher,  from  whom  I  gathered  the  follow- 
ing information. 

"  This  portion  of  Labrador  is  free  to  any  one  to  settle 
on,  and  he  and  anothc  person  had  erected  a  cabin,  and 
had  nets  and  traps  to  catch  seals  and  foxes,  and  guns  to 
shoot  bears  and  wolves.  They  take  their  quarry  to  Que- 
bec, receiving  fifty  cents  a  gallon  for  seal  oil,  and  from 


:  1  ^  :l '. 


1  ;  ^ 


m  ': 


■.  I.f ' 


V 


IM:^ 


■!    I 


338 


Life  of  Audubon, 


three  to  five  guineas  for  black  and  silvei  fox  skins,  and 
others  in  proportion.  In  the  months  of  November  and 
December,  and  indeed  until  spring,  tliey  kill  seals  in 
large  numbers  ;  seventeen  men  belonging  to  their  party 
killed  twenty-five  hundred  seals  once  in  three  days.  This 
great  feat  was  done  with  short  sticks,  and  each  seal  was 
killed  with  a  single  blow  on  the  snout,  whilst  lying  on  the 
edges  of  the  floating  or  field  ice.  The  seals  are  carried 
home  on  sledges  drawn  by  Esquimaux  dogs,  which  are  so 
well  trained  that,  on  reaching  home,  they  push  the  seals 
from  the  sledges  with  their  noses,  and  return  to  the  kil- 
lers with  regular  despatch.  (This,  reader,  is  hearsay  !) 
At  other  times  the  seals  are  driven  into  nets,  one  after 
another,  until  the  poor  animals  become  so  hampered  and 
confined,  that  they  are  easily  and  quickly  dispatched  with 
guns.  The  captain  showed  me  a  spot,  within  a  few  yards 
of  his  log  cabin,  where  last  winter  he  caught  six  fine  large 
silver-gray  foxes.  Bears  and  caraboos  abound  during 
winter,  and  also  wolves,  hares  and  porcupines.  The 
wolves  are  of  a  dun  color,  very  ferocious  and  daring  ;  a 
pack  of  thirty  followed  a  man  to  his  cabin,  and  they  have 
several  times  killed  his  dogs  at  his  own  door.  I  was 
surprised  at  this,  because  his  dogs  were  as  large  as  any 
wolves  I  have  ever  seen.  These  dogs  are  extremely  trac- 
table, so  much  so  that,  when  geared  into  a  sledge,  the 
leader  immediately  starts  at  the  word  of  command  for  any 
given  course,  and  the  whole  pack  gallop  off  at  the  rate  of 
seven  or  eight  miles  an  hour.  The  Esquimaux  dogs  howl 
like  wolves,  and  are  not  at  all  like  our  common  dogs. 
They  were  extremely  gentle,  and  came  to  us,  and  jumped 
on  and  caressed  us  as  if  we  were  old  acquaintances.  They 
do  not  take  to  the  water,  and  are  fit  only  for  draught  and 
the  chase  of  caraboos  ;  and  they  are  the  only  dogs  which 
can  at  all  near  the  caraboo  while  running. 

"  As  soon  as  winter  storms  and  thick   ice  close   the 


Esquimaux  Dogs, 


339 


harbors  and  the  intermediate  spaces  between  the  main- 
land and  the  sea  islands,  the  caraboos  are  seen  moving  on 
the  ice  in  great  herds,  first  to  the  islands,  where  the  snow 
is  most  likely  to  be  drifted,  because  there  in  in  the  shal* 
lows — from  which  the  snow  has  blown  away — he  easily 
scrapes  down  to  the  mosses,  which  ai  this  season  are  the 
only  food  they  can  find.  As  the  severity  of  winter  in- 
creases, these  animals  follow  the  coast  northwest,  and 
gradually  reach  a  comparatively  milder  climate.  But 
notwithstanding  all  this,  on  their  return  in  the  spring, 
which  is  as  regular  as  the  migration  of  the  birds,  they  are 
so  poor  and  emaciated,  that  the  men  take  pity  on  them, 
and  will  not  kill  them.  Merciful  beings,  these  white 
men  '  They  spare  life  when  the  flesh  is  off  from  their 
bones,  and  there  is  no  market  for  their  bones  at  hand. 

*  The  otter  is  tolerably  abundant  here.  These  are 
chiefly  trapped  at  the  foot  of  the  waterfalls,  to  which  they 
resort,  being  the  latest  to  freeze  and  the  ea  liest  to  thaw 
in  spring.  A  few  martins  and  sables  are  caught,  but  every 
year  reduces  their  number.  This  Frenchman  receives 
his  supplies  from  Quebec,  where  he  sends  his  furs  and 
oil.  The  present  time  he  calls  '  the  idle  season,'  and  he 
loiters  about  his  cabin,  lies  in  the  sunshine  like  a  seal, 
eats,  drinks,  and  sleeps  his  life  away,  careless  of  the  biny 
world,  and  of  all  that  is  going  on  there.  His  p  .rtiu'r  h  s 
gone  to  Quebec,  and  his  dogs  are  h  ;  on'y  companions 
until  he  returns  ;  and  the  dogs,  perhaps,  are  the  better 
animal  'f  the  two.  He  has  selected  a  delightful  site  for 
his  castL,  under  the  protection  of  an  island,  and  on  the 
south  side,  where  I  found  the  atmosphere  quite  warm, 
and  the  vegetation  actually  rank,  for  I  saw  plants  with 
leaves  twelve  inches  broad,  and  grasses  three  feet  high. 

"  This  afternoon  the  wind  has  been  blowing  a  tre- 
mendous gale,  and  our  anchors  have  dragged  with  sixty 
fathoms  of  chain  out.      Yet  one  of  the  whaler's  boats 


'11: 'I 

i 
■  "i 

:  r 

'  -lis 


■i  -  .1 


340 


Life  of  Audubon, 


came  with  six  men  to  pay  us  a  visit.  They  wished  to  see 
some  of  my  drawings,  and  I  gratified  them;  and  in  re- 
turn they  promised  to  show  me  a  whale  before  it  was  cut 
up,  should  they  catch  one  before  w  e  leave  this  place  for 
Bras  d'Or. 

"  July  2.3.  We  visited  to-day  the  seal  establishment  of 
a  Scotchman,  named  Robertson,  about  six  miles  east  of 
our  anchorage.  He  received  us  politely,  addressed  me 
by  name,  and  told  me  he  had  received  information  of  my 
visit  to  this  country  through  the  English  and  Canadian 
newspapers.  This  man  has  resided  here  twenty  years, 
and  married  a  Labrador  lady,  the  daughter  of  a  Monsieur 
Chevalier  of  Bras  d'Or  ;  has  a  family  of  six  children,  and 
a  good-looking  wife.  He  has  a  comfortable  house,  and  a 
little  garden,  in  which  he  raises  a  few  turnips,  potatoes, 
and  other  vegetables.  He  appeared  to  be  lord  of  all  these 
parts,  and  quite  contented  with  his  lot.  He  told  me  that 
his  profits  last  year  amounted  to  three  thousand  dollars. 
He  does  not  trade  with  the  Indians,  of  whom  we  saw 
a  ut  twenty  of  the  Mountaineer  trtbe,  and  he  has  white 
men-servants.  His  seal-oil  tubs  were  full,  and  he  was 
then  engaged  in  loading  a  schooner  bound  to  Quebec. 
He  complained  of  the  American  fishermen,  and  said  they 
often  acted  as  badly  as  pirates  towards  the  Indians,  the 
white  settlers,  and  the  eggers,  all  of  whom  have  more  than 
once  retaliated,  when  bloody  combats  have  followed.  He 
assured  me  tliat  he  had  seen  a  fisherman's  crew  kill 
th  usands  of  guillemots  in  a  day,  pluck  off  their  feathers, 
and  throw  their  bodies  into  the  sea. 

"  Mr.  ]\obertson  also  told  me  that,  during  mild  win- 
ters, hi  little  harbor  is  covered  with  thousands  of  white 
j;ulls,  and  that  they  all  leave  on  the  appproach  of  spring. 
The  travelling  here  is  altogether  over  the  ice,  which  is 
covered  with  snow,  and  in  sledges  drawn  by  Esquimaux 
dr  gs,  of  which  this  man  keeps  a  famous  pack.     He  often 


Esquimaux  Dogs, 


341 


to  see 
in  re- 
as  cut 
ce  for 

ent  of 
ast   of 
icd  me 
of  my 
nadian 
years, 
jnsieur 
;n,  and 
;,  and  a 
itatoes, 
1  these 
ne  that 
dollars. 
we  saw 
s  white 
he   was 
Quebec, 
aid  they 
ans,  the 
)re  than 
d.     He 
:ew  kill 
gathers, 

Id  win- 
)f  white 
spring. 
vhich  is 
;[uimaux 
le  often 


goes  to  Bras  d'Or,  seventy-five  miles  distant,  with  his  wife 
and  children  on  one  sledge,  drawn  by  ten  dogs.  Scarcely 
any  travelling  is  done  on  land,  the  country  is  so  precipi- 
tous and  broken.  Fifteen  miles  north  of  here  he  says 
there  is  a  lake,  represented  by  the  Indians  as  four  hun 
dred  miles  long  and  one  hundred  broad,  and  that  this 
sea-like  lake  is  at  times  as  rough  as  the  ocean  in  a  st(»rm. 
It  abounds  with  fish,  and  some  water-birds  resort  there, 
and  breed  by  millions  along  its  margin.  We  have  had  a 
fine  day,  but  Mr.  R.  says  that  the  summer  has  been  un- 
usually tempestuous.  The  cariboo  flies  drove  our  hunt- 
ers on  board  to-day,  and  they  looked  as  bloody  as  if  they 
had  actually  had  a  gouging  fight  with  some  rough  Ken- 
tuckians.  Here  we  found  on  this  wonderful  wild  coast 
some  newspapers  from  the  United  States,  and  received 
the  latest  intelligence  from  Boston  to  be  had  at  Labra- 
dor." 

''^July  24  and  25  were  engaged  in  hunting  birds  and 
Jrawing,  and  contain  much  valuable  information  on 
ornithology,  which  is  given  in  the  "  Birds  of  America." 

"  July  26.  We  left  our  anchorage,  and  sailed  with  a 
fair  wind  to  visit  the  Chevalier's  settlement,  called  Bonne 
Espdrance,  forty-seven  miles  distant.  When  we  had  gone 
two-thirds  of  the  distance  the  wind  failed  us  ;  calms  were 
followed  by  severe  squalls,  and  a  tremendous  sea  rolled, 
which  threatened  to  shake  our  masts  out.  At  eight 
o'clock,  however,  we  came  abreast  of  the  settlement,  but 
as  our  pilot  knew  nothing  of  the  harbor,  the  captain 
thought  it  prudent  to  stand  off,  and  proceed  on  to  Bras 
d'Or.  The  coast  here,  like  all  that  we  have  seen  before, 
was  dotted  with  rocky  islands  of  all  sizes  and  forms,  and 
against  which  the  raging  waves  dashed  in  a  frightful  man- 
ner, making  us  shudder  at  the  thought  of  the  fate  of  the 
wretched  mariners  who  might  be  thrown  on  them. 

**  July  27.  At  daylight  this  morning  we  found  our* 


r;  .1 


'Msn 


% 


Ih'- 


"I. 


\\ 


*• 


34^ 


Life  of  Audubon, 


ii 


selves  at  the  mouth  of  Bras  d'Or  Harbor,  where  we  are 
now  snugly  moored.  We  hoisted  our  colors,  and  Cap- 
tain Billings,  oi  American  Harbor,  came  to  us  in  his 
'Hampton  boat,  and  piloted  us  in.  This  Bras  d'Or  is  the 
grand  rendezvous  of  almost  all  the  fishermen,  that  resort 
to  this  coast  for  cod-fish  ;  and  we  found  here  a  flotilla  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  sails,  principally  fore-and-aft 
schooners,  and  mostly  from  Halifax  and  the  eastern 
parts  of  the  United  States. 

"There  was  a  life  and  bustle  in  the  harbor  which 
surprised  us,  after  so  many  weeks  of  wilderness  and  lone- 
liness along  the  rocky  coast  Boats  were  moving  to  and 
fro  over  the  whole  bay,  going  after  fish,  and  returning 
loaded  to  the  gunwale  ;  some  with  seines,  others  with 
caplings,  for  bait,  and  a  hundred  or  more  anchored  out 
about  a  mile  from  us,  hauling  the  poor  cod-fish  by  thou- 
sands, and  hundreds  of  men  engaged  in  cleaning  and 
salting  them,  and  enlivening  their  work  with  Billingsgate 
slang,  and  stories,  and  songs. 

"  As  soon  as  breakfast  was  over  we  went  ashore,  and 
called  on  Mr.  Jones,  the  owner  of  the  seal-fishing  estab- 
I  hment  here,  a  re  gh,  brown-looking  Nova-Scotia  man, 
who  received  us  well,  and  gave  us  considerable  informa- 
tion respecting  the  birds  which  visit  his  neighborhood. 
This  man  has  forty  Esquimaux  dogs,  and  he  entertained 
us  with  an  account  of  his  travels  with  them  in  winter. 
They  are  harnessed  with  a  leather  collar,  belly  and  back 
bands,  through  the  upper  part  of  which  the  line  of  seal 
skin  passes  which  is  attached  to  the  sledge,  and  it  serves 
the  double  purpose  of  a  rein  and  trace  to  draw  with.  An 
V)dd  number  of  dogs  is  used  for  the  gang  employed  in 
drawing  the  sledge,  the  number  varying  according  to  the 
distance  to  be  travelled  or  the  load  to  be  carried.  Each 
dog  is  estimated  to  carry  two  hundred  pounds,  and  to 
travel  with  that  load  at  the  rate  of  five  or  six  miles  an 


Sledge  Riding, 


343 


hour.  The  leader,  which  is  always  a  well-broken  dog,  is 
placed  ahead  of  the  pack,  with  a  draft  line  of  from  six  to 
ten  fathoms  in  length,  and  the  rest  with  successively 
shorter  ones,  until  they  come  to  within  eight  feet  of  the 
sledge.  They  are  not  coupled,  however,  as  they  aie 
usually  represented  in  engravings,  but  are  attached  each 
loose  from  all  others,  so  that  when  they  are  in  motion, 
travelling,  they  appear  like  a  flock  of  partridges  all  11}  ing 
loosely,  and  yet  all  the  same  course.  They  alvv.i}S 
travel  in  a  gallop,  no  matter  what  the  state  of  the  country 
may  be.  Going  down  hill  is  most  difficult  and  danger- 
ous, and  at  times  it  is  necessary  for  the  rider  to  guide 
the  sledge  with  hs  ieet,  as  boys  steer  their  sleds  sliding 
down  hills,  and  sometimes  it  is  done  by  long  poles  stuck 
into  the  snow.  When  the  sledge  is  heavily  laden,  and 
the  descent  steep,  the  dogs  are  often  taken  off,  and  the 
vehicle  made  to  slide  down  the  precipice  by  the  man 
alone,  who  lies  flat  on  the  sledge,  and  guides  it  with  his 
toes  from  behind,  as  he  descends  head-foremost.  The 
dogs  are  so  well  acquainted  with  the  courses  and  places 
in  the  neighborhood,  that  they  never  fail  to  take  their 
master  and  his  sledge  to  the  house  where  he  wishes  them 
to  go,  even  should  a  severe  snow-storm  come  on  while 
they  are  on  the  journey ;  and  it  is  always  saf'^r  for  the 
rider  at  such  times  to  trust  to  the  instincts  of  the  dogs, 
than  to  attempt  to  guide  them  by  his  own  judgment. 
Cases  have  occurred  where  men  have  done  this,  and  paid 
the  penalty  by  freezing  to  death  in  a  desolate  wilderness. 
In  such  cases  the  faithful  dogs,  if  left  to  themselves, 
make  directly  for  their  home. 

"  When  two  travellers  meet  on  a  journey,  it  is  neces- 
sary for  both  parties  to  come  circuitously  and  slowly  to- 
wards each  other,  and  give  the  separate  packs  the  oppor 
tunity  of  observing  that  their  masters  are  acquainted,  or 
otherwise  a  fight  might  ensue  between  the  dogs.     Mr- 


v,\ 


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i 

1    •  ■ 

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. 

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f. 

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344 


Life  of  Audubon, 


\ 

<& 

^ 

1 

1  ■       '' 

'li 

! 

, 

"' 

1 

• 

"i 

1 

III 

1 

Jones  lost  a  son,  fourteen  years  of  age,  a  few  years  ago 
in  the  snow,  in  consequence  of  a  servant  imprudent!) 
turning  the  dogs  from  their  course,  thinking  they  were 
wrong.  The  dogs  obeyed  the  command,  and  took  them 
towards  Hudson's  Bay.  When  the  weather  cleared  the 
servant  found  his  mistake  ;  but,  alas  !  it  was  too  late  for 
the  tender  boy,  and  he  froze  to  death  in  the  servant's 
arms. 

"  We  saw  also  to-day  the  carcasses  of  fifteen  hundred 
seals  stripped  of  their  skins,  piled  up  in  a  heap,  and  the 
dogs  feeding  on  them.  The  stench  filled  the  air  for  half 
a  mile  around.  They  tell  us  the  dogs  feed  on  this  filthy 
flesh  until  the  next  seal  season,  tearing  it  piecemeal  when 
frozen  in  winter. 

"  Mr.  Jones's  house  was  being  painted  white,  his  oil- 
tubs  were  full,  and  the  whole  establishment  was  perfumed 
with  odors  which  were  not  agreeable  to  my  olfactory 
nerves.  The  snow  is  to  be  seen  in  large  patches  on 
every  hill  around  us,  while  the  borders  of  the  water- 
courses are  fringed  with  grasses  and  weeds  as  rank  as 
any  to  be  found  in  the  Middle  States  in  like  situations. 
I  saw  a  small  brook  with  fine  trout,  but  what  pleased  me 
more  was  to  find  the  nest  of  the  shore-lark  ;  it  was  em- 
bedded in  moss,  so  exactly  the  color  of  the  bird,  that 
when  the  mother  sat  on  it,  it  was  impossible  to  distin- 
guish her.  We  see  Newfoundland  in  the  distance,  look- 
ing like  high  mountains,  whose  summits  are  far  above 
the  cloud'-  at  present.  Two  weeks  since  the  harbor 
where  we  now  are  was  an  ice-field,  and  not  a  vessel 
could  approach  it  j  since  then  the  ice  has  sunk,  and  none 
is  to  be  seen  far  or  near. 

"  July  28.  A  tremendous  gale  has  blown  all  day,  and 
I  have  been  drawing.  The  captain  and  the  rest  of  oui 
company  went  off  in  the  storm  to  visit  Blanc  Sablons, 
four  miles  distant    The  fishermen  have  corrupted  the 


The  Fidigula  Fusca. 


345 


French  name  into  the  English  of  "  Nancy  Belong."  Ta 
wards  evening  the  storm  abated,  and  although  it  is  now 
almost  calm,  the  sea  runs  high,  and  the  Ripley  rolls  in  a 
way  which  makes  our  suppers  rest  unquietly  in  our 
stomachs.  We  have  tried  in  vain  to  get  some  Esquimaux 
mocassins  and  robes  ;  and  we  also  asked  to  hire  one  of 
them,  to  act  as  a  guide  for  thirty  or  forty  miles  into  the 
interior.  The  chief  said  his  son  might  go,  a  boy  of 
twenty-three,  but  he  would  have  to  ask  his  mother,  as  she 
was  always  fearing  some  accident  to  her  daniiig.  This 
darling  son  looked  more  like  a  brute  than  a  Christian 
man,  and  was  so  daring,  that  he  would  net  venture  on 
our  journey. 

"  We  proceeded  over  the  table-lands  towards  some 
ponds,  and  I  found  three  young  shore-larks  just  out  of 
the  nest,  and  not  yet  able  to  fly.  They  hopped  about 
pretty  briskly  over  the  moss,  uttering  asoft/(?ty>,  to  which 
the  parent  birds  responded  at  every  call.  They  were 
about  a  week  old,  and  I  am  glad  that  I  shall  now  have 
it  in  my  power  to  make  a  figure  of  these  birds  in  sum- 
mer, winter,  and  young  plumage.  We  also  found  the 
breeding-place  of  the  Fuligula  Histrionica,  in  the  cornel 
of  a  small  pond  in  some  low  bushes.  The  parent  bird 
was  .so  shy,  that  we  could  not  obtain  her.  In  another 
pond  we  found  the  nest  also  of  the  velvet  duck,  called 
here  white-winged  coot  (Fuligula  Fusca) ;  it  was  placed 
on  the  moss,  among  the  grass,  close  to  the  edge  of  the 
water,  and  contained  feathers,  but  no  down,  as  others  do. 
The  female  had  six  young,  five  of  which  were  secured. 
They  were  about  one  week  old,  and  I  could  readily  dis- 
tinguish the  male  birds  from  the  females,  the  former  all 
exhiWtirvg  the  white  spot  under  the  eye.  They  were 
black  and  hairy  (not  downy)  all  over  except  under  the 
chin,  where  a  patch  of  white  showed  itself     They  swam 

swiftly  and  beautifully,  and  when  we  drove  them  into  a 
15# 


W  '* 


346 


Life  of  Audubon. 


w 


narrow  place,  for  the  purpose  of  getting  them  on  land 
and  catching  them  alive,  they  turned  about  face  and  dived 
most  beautifully,  and  made  their  way  towards  the  mid- 
dle of  the  pond,  where  four  were  shot  at  one  discharge. 
Another  went  on  shore  and  squatted  in  the  grass,  where 
Lincoln  caught  it  ;  but  I  begged  for  its  life,  and  we  left 
it  to  the  care  of  its  mother  and  of  the  Maker!  The 
mother  showed  all  imaginable  anxiety,  and  called  to  her 
young  all  the  while  she  remained  in  the  pond,  with  a 
short  squeaking  note  by  no  means  unpleasant. 

"  July  29.  Bras  d'Or.  Another  horrid  stormy  day  \ 
the  fishermen  complain,  although  five  or  six  left  the  har- 
bor for  further  east ;  and  I  wish  them  joy,  but  for  my 
part  I  wish  I  was  further  westward.  Our  party  of  young 
men  went  off  this  morning  early  to  a  place  called  Port 
Eau,  eighteen  miles  distant,  to  try  to  buy  some  Esqui- 
maux mocassins  and  dresses.  They  will  not  come  back 
till  to-morrow,  and  I  was  glad  when  the  boat  returned, 
as  I  was  sure  they  were  on  terra  firma.  I  feel  quite  lone- 
some on  account  of  their  absence,  for  when  all  are  on 
board  we  have  lively  times,  with  music,  and  stories,  and 
jokes,  and  journalizing.  But  1  have  amused  myself  draw- 
ing three  young  shore-larks,  the  first  ever  portrayed  by 
man. 

**  These  birds  are  just  now  beginning  to  congregate, 
by  associating  their  families  together;  even  those  of 
which  the  young  are  scarcely  able  to  fly  fifty  yards  are 
urging  the  latter  to  follow  the  flock ;  so  much  for  short 
seasons  here.  In  one  month  all  these  birds  must  leave 
this  coast  or  begin  to  suffer.  The  young  of  many  birds 
are  now  li edged,  and  scamper  over  the  rocks  about  us, 
amid  the  stinking  drying  cod-fish,  with  all  the  sprightli- 
ness  of  youth.  The  young  ravens  are  out,  and  fly  in 
flocks  with  their  parents  also ;  and  the  young  of  almost 
all  the  land  birds  are  full  fledged.     The   ducks  alont 


An  Iceberg  Crushed. 


347 


seem  to  me  to  be  backward  in  their  growth,  but  being 
more  hardy,  they  can  stand  the  rigidity  of  the  climate 
until  the  month  of  October,  when  the  deep  snows  drive 
them  off,  ready  or  not,  for  their  toilsome  journey. 

"  The  water  of  our  harbor  is  actually  covered  with 
oil,  and  the  bottom  fairly  covered  with  the  offal  of  cod- 
fish, so  that  I  feel  as  if  smelling  and  breathing  an  air 
impregnated  with  the  esser  ce  of  cod-fish. 

"  yuly  30.  The  morning  was  beautiful  when  I  arose, 
but  such  a  thing  as  a  beautiful  morning  in  this  mournful 
country  amounts  almost  to  an  unnatural  phenomenon. 
The  captain  and  myself  visited  Mr.  Jones  this  afternoon. 
We  found  his  wife  a  good  motherly  woman,  who  talked 
well,  and  gave  us  some  milk  ;  she  also  promised  us  some 
fresh  butter,  and  asked  to  see  my  drawings  of  the  birds 
of  this  vicinity. 

"  At  Port  Eau  our  young  men  saw  an  iceberg  of  im- 
mense size.  At  that  place  there  is  a  large  fishing  estab- 
lishment, having  a  store  connected  with  it,  belonging  to 
fishermen  who  come  yearly  from  the  Island  of  Jersey. 
It  is  again  blowing  a  young  hurricane. 

"  ^uiy  31.  Another  horrid  hurricane,  accompanied  by 
heavy  rain,  and  the  vessel  rolling  so  that  I  cannot  go  on 
with  my  drawing. 

'■'^  August  I.  rhe  weather  has  quite  changed,  the  wind 
blows  from  tlic  south-west ;  it  >  dry,  and  I  have  used 
the  time  in  drawing.  At  noon  we  were  visited  by  an  ice- 
berg, which  was  driven  by  the  easterly  wind  and  storm 
of  yesterday  \o  widiin  three  miles  of  us,  and  grounded  at 
the  entrance  of  the  bay.  It  looks  like  a  large  manof- 
war,  dressed  in  light  green. sh  muslin  instead  of  canvas ; 
asd  whi  n  the  sun  shines  on  it  it  glitters  most  brilliantly. 

**  When  these  transient  monuments  of  the  sea  happen 
to  tumble  or  roll  over,  the  fall  is  tremendous,  and  the 
Bound  produced  resembles  that  of  loud  distant  thunder 


u'.t 

it 


'  i.e.  ^^ 

*...  .     f:' 

V   ■         J    -    ■ 


ii 


Mi 


348 


Life  of  Audubon, 


1 


These  icebergs  are  common  here  all  summer,  being  waft 
ed  from  the  lower  end  of  the  straits  with  every  heavy 
easterly  wind  or  gale.  And  as  the  winds  generally  pre- 
vail from  the  south  and  south-west,  the  coast  of  New- 
foundland is  more  free  from  theru  than  Labrador;  and 
the  navigation  along  the  straits  is  generally  performed 
along  the  coast  of  Newfoundland.  My  time  and  oui 
days  now  weigh  heavily  on  our  hands ;  nothing  to  be 
seen,  nothing  to  be  shot,  therefore  nothing  to  be  drawn. 
I  have  now  determined  on  a  last  thorough  ransack  of 
the  mountain  tops,  and  plains,  and  ponds,  and  if  no  suc- 
cess follows,  to  raise  anchor  and  sail  towards  the  United 
States  once  more  ;  and  blessed  will  the  day  be  when  I 
land  on  those  dear  shores  where  all  I  long  for  in  this 
world  exists  and  lives,  I  hope. 

"  August  2.  Thermometer  58°  at  noon.  Thank  God 
it  has  rained  all  day.  I  say  thank  God,  though  rain  is 
no  rarity,  becaui  e  it  is  the  duty  of  every  man  to  be  thank- 
ful for  whatever  happens  by  the  will  of  the  Omnipotent 
Creator  ;  yet  it  was  not  so  agreeable  to  any  of  my  party 
as  a  fine  day  would  have  been.  We  had  an  arrival  of  a 
handsome  schooner,  called  the  Wizard,  from  Boston  to- 
day, but  she  brought  neither  papers  nor  letters  ;  but  we 
learrked  that  all  our  great  cities  have  a  healthy  season, 
and  we  thanked  God  for  this.  The  retrograde  movement 
of  many  land  and  water  birds  has  already  commenced, 
especially  of  the  lesser  species. 

"  August  3.  The  Wizard  broke  her  moorings  and  ran 
into  us  last  night,  causing  much  alarm  but  no  injury. 
The  iceberg  of  which  I  have  spoken  has  been  broken 
inlv)  a  thousand  pieces  by  the  late  gale,  and  now  lies 
stranded  along  the  coast.  One  such  monster  deposits 
hundreds  of  tons  of  rocks,  and  gravel,  and  boulders,  and 
so  explains  the  phenomena  which  I  have  before  men- 
tioned as  observable  along  the  coast 


M'l 


ne  Birds  Migrating. 


349 


**  August  4.  It  is  wonderful  how  quickly  every  living 
thing  in  this  region,  whether  animal  or  vegetable,  attains 
its  growth.  In  six  weeks  I  have  seen  the  eggs  laid,  the 
birds  hatched,  and  their  first  mo-ilt  half  gone  through ; 
their  association  into  flocks  begun,  and  preparations  foi 
leaving  the  country. 

"  That  the  Creator  should  have  ordered  that  millions 
of  diminutive,  tender  creatures,  should  cross  spaces  of 
country,  in  all  appearance  a  thousand  times  more  con- 
genial for  all  their  purposes,  to  reach  this  poor,  desolate, 
and  deserted  land,  to  people  it,  as  it  were,  for  a  time,  and 
to  cause  it  to  be  enlivened  with  the  songs  of  the  sweetest 
of  the  feathered  musicians,  for  only  two  months  at  most, 
and  then,  by  the  same  extraordinary  instinct,  should 
cause  them  all  to  suddenly  abandon  the  country,  is  as  won- 
derful as  it  is  beautiful  and  grand. 

"  Six  weeks  ago  this  whole  country  was  one  sheet  of 
ice  ;  the  land  was  covered  with  snow,  the  air  was  filled 
with  frost,  and  subiect  to  incessant  storms,  and  the  whole 
country  a  mere  mass  of  apparently  useless  matter.  Now 
the  grass  is  abundant,  and  of  rich  growth,  the  flowers  are 
met  with  at  every  step,  insects  fill  the  air,  and  the  fruits 
are  ripe.  The  sun  shines,  and  its  influence  is  as  re- 
markable as  it  is  beautifiil  ;  the  snow-banks  appear  as  if 
about  to  melt,  and  here  and  there  there  is  something 
of  a  summerish  look.  But  in  thirty  days  all  is  over  j  the 
dark  northern  clouds  will  come  dov/n  on  the  m«.  untains  ; . 
the  rivulets  and  pools,  and  the  bays  themselves,  will  begin 
to  freeze  ;  weeks  of  snow-storms  will  follow,  and  change 
the  whole  covering  of  these  shores  and  country,  and  Na- 
ture will  assume  not  only  a  sleeping  state,  but  one  of  des- 
olation and  death.  Wonderful !  wonderful !  But  it  re- 
quires an  abler  pen  than  mine  to  paint  the  picture  of  this 
all-wonderful  country. 

"  August  5.  This  has  been  a  fine  day .    We  have  had 


(■'•■i 


!   I 


li^:' 


<*f 


1 

it 


I  ^1 


'l  * 


n 


i  I 


3  so 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


no  new  hunicane,  and  I  have  finished  the  drawings  of 
several  new  birds.  It  appears  that  northern  birds  come 
to  maturity  sooner  than  southern  ones ;  this  is  reversing 
the  rule  in  the  human  species.  The  migration  of  birds  is 
much  more  wonderful  than  that  of  fishes,  because  the  lat- 
ter commonly  go  feeling  their  way  along  the  shores,  from 
one  clime  to  another,  and  return  to  the  very  same  river, 
creek,  or  even  hole,  to  deposit  their  spawn,  as  the  birds 
do  to  their  former  nest  or  building-ground  as  long  as  they 
live.  But  the  latter  do  not  feel  their  way,  but  launching 
high  in  the  air,  go  at  once,  and  correctly,  too,  across  im- 
mense tracts  of  country,  seemingly  indifferent  to  them, 
but  at  once  stopping,  and  making  their  abode  in  special 
parts  heretofore  their  own,  by  previous  knowledge  of 
the  advantages  and  comforts  which  they  have  enjoyed, 
and  which  they  know  await  them  there. 

"  August  lo.  I  now  sit  down  to  post  up  my  poor  book, 
while  a  furious  gale  is  blowing  without.  I  have  neglected 
to  make  daily  records  for  some  days,  because  I  have 
been  so  constantly  drawing,  that  when  night  came,  I  was 
too  weary  to  wield  my  pen.  Indeed,  all  my  physical  pow- 
ers have  been  taxed  to  weariness  by  this  little  work  ot 
drawing  ;  my  neck  and  shoulders,  and  most  of  all  my 
fingers,  have  ached  from  the  fatigue  ;  and  I  have  suffered 
more  from  this  kind  of  exertion  than  firom  walking  sixty- 
five  miles  in  a  day,  which  I  once  did. 

*'  To-day  I  have  added  one  more  new  species  to  the 
'  Birds  of  America,'  the  Labrador  falcon  ;  and  may  we  live 
to  see  its  beautiful  figure  multiplied  by  HaveU's  graver." 

The  journal  gives  a  list  of  the  names  of  one  hundred 
and  seventy-three  skins  of  birds,  which  were  obtained  on 
the  coast  of  Labrador  by  Audubon  and  his  party  on  this 
expedition.  The  episode  given  in  the  following  chapter 
seems  to  summarize  Audubon's  observations  of  the  in- 
habitants of  Labrador. 


i 


CHAPTER  XXX, 

Labrador  Episodes:    The  Squatters  of  Labrador. 

[O  where  you  will,  if  a  shilling  can  there  be  pro- 
cured, you  may  expect  to  meet  with  individuals 
in  search  of  it.  In  the  course  of  last  summer 
I  met  with  several  persons  as  well  as  families  whom  I 
could  not  compare  to  anything  else  than  what  in  America 
we  understand  by  the  appellation  of  squatters.  The 
methods  they  employed  to  accumulate  property  form  the 
subject  of  the  observations  which  I  now  lay  before  you. 
Our  schooner  lay  at  anchor  in  a  beautiful  basin  on  the 
coast  of  Labrador,  surrounded  by  uncouth  granite  rocks, 
partially  covered  with  stunted  vegetation.  While  search- 
ing for  birds  and  other  objects  I  chanced  one  morning  to 
direct  my  eyes  towards  the  pinnacle  of  a  small  island, 
separated  from  the  mainland  by  a  very  narrow  channel, 
and  presently  commenced  inspecting  it  with  my  telescope. 
There  I  saw  a  man  on  his  knees,  with  clasped  hands,  and 
face  inclined  heavenwards.  Before  him  was  a  small  mon- 
ument of  unhewn  stones  supporting  a  wooden  cross.  In 
a  word,  reader,  the  person  whom  I  thus  unexpectedly  dis- 
covered was  engaged  in  prayer.  Such  an  incident  in  that 
desolate  land  was  affecting,  for  there  one  seldom  finds 
traces  of  human  beings,  and  the  aid  of  the  Almighty,  al- 
though necessary  everywhere,  seems  there  peculiarly  re- 
.  quired  to  enable  them  to  procure  the  means  of  subsist- 
ence. My  curiosity  having  been  raised,  I  betook  myself 
to  my  boat,  landed  on  the  rock,  and  scrambled  to  the 


t      ^ 


S 

\  .         *       ' 

r; 

'        '        ' 

J" 

^ 

3S^ 


Life  of  Audubon, 


' 

'W 

1  ij  i 

1 

place,  where  I  found  the  man  still  on  his  knees.  When 
his  devotions  were  concluded  he  bowed  to  me  and  ad- 
dressed me  in  very  indifferent  French.  I  asked  why  he 
had  chosen  so  dreary  d.  spot  for  his  prayers.  '  Because, 
answered  he,  'the  sea  lies  before  me,  and  from  it  I  re- 
ceive my  spring  and  summer  sustenance.  When  wintei 
approaches  I  pray  fronting  the  mountains  on  the  main, 
as  at  that  period  the  caraboos  come  towards  the  shore 
and  I  kill  them,  feed  on  their  flesh,  and  form  my  bedding 
of  their  skins.*  I  thought  the  answer  reasonable,  and,  as 
I  longed  to  know  more  of  him,  followed  him  to  his  hut. 
It  was  low  and  very  small,  formed  of  stones  plastered 
with  mud  'o  a  considerable  thickness.  The  roof  was 
composed  of  a  sort  of  thatching  made  of  weeds  and 
moss.  A  large  Dutch  stove  filled  nearly  one  half  of  the 
place  j  a  small  port-hole,  then  stuffed  with  old  rags,  serv 
ed  at  times  instead  of  a  window  ;  the  bed  was  a  pile  of 
deer-skins ;  a  bowl,  a  jug,  and  an  iron  pot  were  placed 
on  a  rude  shelf;  three  old  and  rusty  muskets,  their  locks 
fastened  by  thongs,  stood  in  a  corner ;  and  his  buck-shot, 
powder,  and  flints  were  tied  up  in  Loofs  of  skin.  Eight 
Esquimaux  dogs  yelled  and  leaped  about  is.  The  strong 
smell  that  emanated  from  them,  together  with  the  smoke 
and  filth  of  the  apartment,  rendered  my  stay  in  it  very 
disagreeable.  Being  a  native  of  France,  the  good  man 
showed  much  politeness,  and  invited  me  to  take  some  re- 
freshment, when,  without  waiting  for  my  assent,  he  took 
up  his  bowl  and  went  off  I  knew  not  whither.  No  sooner 
had  he  and  his  strange  dogs  disappeared,  than  I  went  out 
also  to  breathe  the  pure  air  and  gaze  on  the  wild  and  ma- 
jestic scenery  around.  I  was  struck  with  the  extraordi- 
nary luxuriance  of  the  plants  and  grasses  that  had  sprung 
up  on  the  scanty  soil  in  the  little  valley  which  the  squatter 
had  chosen  for  his  home.  Their  stalks  and  broad  blades 
reached  my  waist.    June  had  come,  and  the  flies,  mo»- 


Squatters  in  Labrador, 


J  53 


quitoes,  and  other  insects  filled  the  air,  and  were  as  trou* 
blesome  to  me  as  if  I  had  been  in  a  Florida  swampi 
The  squatter  returned,  but  he  was  *  chopfallen ; '  nay,  I 
thought  his  visage  had  assumed  a  cadaverous  hue.  Tears 
ran  down  his  cheeks,  and  he  told  me  that  his  barrel  of 
rum  had  been  stolen  by  the  *cggers  '  or  some  fishermen. 
He  said  that  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  hiding  it  in  the 
bushes  to  prevent  its  being  carried  away  by  those  merci- 
less thieves,  who  must  have  watched  him  in  some  of  his 
frequent  walks  to  the  spot.  '  Now,'  said  he,  *  I  can  ex- 
pect none  till  next  spring,  and  God  knows  what  v.  ill  be- 
come of  me  in  the  winter.'  Pierre  Jean  Baptiste  Michaux, 
*  had  resided  in  that  part  of  the  world  for  upwards  of  ten 
years  ;  he  had  run  away  from  the  fishing-smack  that  had 
brought  him  from  his  fair  native  land,  and  expected  to 
become  rich  some  day  by  the  sale  of  his  furs,  skins,  and 
eider-ducks'  down,  seal-skins,  and  other  articles  which  he 
collected  yearly,  and  sold  to  the  traders  who  regularly 
visited  his  dreary  abode.  He  was  of  moderate  stature, 
firmly  framed,  and  as  active  as  a  wild^  cat.'  He  told  me 
that,  excepting  the  loss  of  his  rum,  he  had  never  experi- 
enced any  other  cause  of  sorrow,  and  that  ne  felt  as 
'happy  as  a  lord.'  Before  parting  with  this  fortunate 
mortal,  I  inquired  how  his  dogs  managed  to  find  sufficient 
food.  *  \Vhy,  sir,  during  spring  and  summer  they  ramble 
along  the  shores,  where  they  meet  with  abundance  of 
dead  fish,  and  in  winter  they  eat  the  flesh  of  the  seals 
which  I  kill  late  in  the  autumn,  when  these  animals  return 
from  the  north.  As  to  myself,  everything  eatable  is  good, 
and  when  hard  pushed,  I  assure  you  I  can  relish  the  fare 
of  my  dogs  just  as  much  as  they  do  themselves.'  Pro 
ceeding  along  the  rugged  indentations  of  the  bay  with  my 
companions,  I  reached  the  settlement  of  another  person, 
who,  like  the  first,  had  come  to  Labrador  with  the  view 
of  making  his  fortune.     tVe  found  him  after  many  diffi- 


l\ 


■■y\ 


ft 


.* 


m :  i 


I" 


kJk. 


Ill 


354 


Life  of  Audubon. 


culties  j  but  as  our  boats  turned  a  long  point  jutting  out 
into  the  bay  we  were  pleased  to  see  several  small  schoon- 
ers at  anchor  and  one  lying  near  a  sort  of  wharf.  Sever- 
al neat-looking  houses  enlivened  the  view,  and  on  landing 
we  were  kindly  greeted  with  a  polite  welcome  from  a  man 
who  proved  to  be  the  ouner  of  the  establishment.  For 
the  rude  simplicity  of  him  of  the  rum-casl'  we  found  here 
the  manners  and  dress  of  a  man  of  the  world.  A  hand- 
some fur  cap  covered  his  dark  brow,  his  clothes  were  sim- 
ilar to  our  own,  and  his  demeanor  was  that  of  a  gentle- 
man. On  my  giving  him  my  nanii;  he  shook  me  heartily 
by  the  hand,  and  on  introducing  eacl.  of  my  companions 
to  him  he  addressed  me  as  follows :  '  My  dear  sir,  I  have 
been  expecting  you  these  three  wtcks,  having  read  in  ihd 
paf'''r8  your  intention  to  visit  Labrador,  and  some  fisher- 
m  I  told  me  of  your  arrival  at  Ivittle  Natashquan.  Gen- 
tlemen, walk  in.'  Having  followed  him  to  his  neat  and 
comfortable  mansion,  he  introduced  me  to  his  wife  and 
children.  Of  t'le  latter  there  were  six,  all  robust  and 
rosy.  The  lady,  although  a  native  of  the  country,  was  of 
French  extraction,  handsome,  and  sufficiently  accomplish- 
ed to  make  an  excellent  companion  to  a  gentleman.  A 
smart  girl  brought  us  a  luncheon,  consisting  of  bread, 
chtese,  and  good  port  wine,  to  which,  having  rowed  four- 
teen or  fifteen  miles  that  morning,  we  helped  ourst'  *is  ' . 
a  manner  that  seemed  satisfactory  to  all  parties.  Um 
host  gave  us  newspapers  from  diffc-ent  parts  of  the 
world,  and  showed  us  his  small  but  choice  collection  of 
books.  He  inquired  after  the  health  of  the  amiable 
Captain  Bayfield  of  the  Royal  Navy,  and  the  o<ficers  un- 
der him,  and  hoped  they  would  give  him  a  call.  Having 
refreshed  ourselves,  we  walked  out  with  him,  when  he 
pointed  to  a  very  small  garden  where  a  few  vegetables 
sprouted  out  anxious  to  see  the  sun.  Gazing  or  the  des- 
olate country  around,  I  asked  him  how  he  had  thus  se- 


Squatters  in  Labrador. 


J55 


four- 

Oui 

of  the 

tion  of 

imiable 

ers  un- 


cliiflcd  himself  from  the  world.  For  //  lie  had  no  relish, 
and  although  he  had  received  a  liberal  education  and  had 
mixed  with  society,  he  never  intended  t(j  return  to  it. 
'  The  country  round,'  snid  he,  'is  all  my  own  much  farther 
than  you  c  in  see.  No  fees,  no  lawyers,  no  taxes  are  here. 
I  do  pretty  much  as  I  choose.  My  means  are  ample 
through  my  own  industry.  These  vessels  come  here  for 
seal-skins,  seal  oil,  and  salmon,  and  give  me  in  return  all 
the  necessaries,  and,  indeed,  comforts  of  the  life  I  love  to 
follow ;  and  what  else  could  the  ic^rld  afford  me  ?  *  I 
spoke  of  the  education  of  his  childrei  .  *  My  wife  and  I 
teach  them  all  that  is  usi^ful  for  them  to  know,  and  is  not 
that  enough  ?  My  girls  will  marry  their  countrymen,  my 
sons  the  daughters  of  my  neighbors^  and  I  hope  all  of 
them  will  live  and  die  in  the  country.'  !  said  no  more, 
but  by  way  of  compensation  for  the  trouble  I  had  given 
him,  purchased  from  his  eldest  child  a  bei'^iitiful  fox-skin. 
Few  birds,  he  said,  came  round  in  summer,  but  in  winter 
thousands  of  ptarmigans  were  killed,  as  well  as  great 
numbers  of  gulls.  He  had  a  great  dislike  to  all  fisher- 
men and  eggers,  and  I  really  believe  was  always  glad  to 
see  the  departure  of  even  the  hardy  navigators  who  an- 
nually visited  him  for  the  sake  of  his  salmon,  his  seal- 
skins, and  oil.  He  had  more  than  forty  Esquim.aux  dogs ; 
and  as  I  was  caressing  one  of  them  he  said,  *  Tell  my 
brother-in-law  at  Bras-d  Or  that  we  are  all  well  here,  and 
that  after  visiting  my  wife's  father  I  will  give  him  a  call. 
"  Now,  reader,  his  wife's  father  resided  at  the  distance 
of  seventy  miles  down  the  Loast,  and  like  himself  was  a 
recluse.  He  of  Bras-dOr  was  at  double  that  distance; 
but  when  the  snows  of  winter  have  thickly  covered  the 
country,  the  whole  family  in  sledges  drawn  by  dogs  travel 
with  ease  and  pay  their  visits  or  leave  their  cards.  This 
good  gentleman  had  already  resided  there  more  than 
twenty  years.     Should  he  ever  read  this  article,  J  desire 


i 


I: 


"' 

\ 

\k\ 

i 

'  "u  \ 

I 

r^ 

i 

■  1, 

■ 

t.  •  "' 

\' 

14 


^ 

ifll' 

''"it  nl 

I      '  «i  1    ' 

,  u  H 

if  iiiiiii 


J56 


Life  of  Audubon, 


him  to  believe  that  I  shall  always  be  grateful  to  him  and 
his  wife  for  their  hospitable  welcome.  When  our  schoon- 
er, the  Ripley,  arrived  at  Bras-iFOr^  I  paid  a  visit  to 
Mr. ,  the  brother-in-law,  who  lived  in  a  house  im- 
ported from  Quebec,  which  fronted  the  strait  of  ^<f//f /j/<», 
and  overlooked  a  small  island,  over  which  the  eye  reach- 
ed the  coast  of  Newfoundland  whenever  it  was  the  wind's 
pleasure  to  drive  away  the  fogs  that  usually  lay  over  both 
coasts.  The  gentleman  and  his  wife,  we  were  told,  were 
both  out  on  a  walk,  but  would  return  in  a  very  short  time, 
which  they  in  fact  did,  when  we  followed  them  into  the 
house,  which  was  yet  unfinished.  The  usual  immense 
Dutch  stove  formed  the  principal  feature  of  the  interior. 
The  lady  had  once  visited  the  metropolis  of  Canada,  and 
seemed  desirous  of  acting  the  part  of  a  *  blue  stocking.* 
Understanding  that  I  knew  something  of  the  fine  arts, 
she  pointed  to  several  of  the  vile  prints  hung  on  the  bare 
walls,  which  she  said  were  elegant  Italian  pictures,  and 
continued  her  encomiums  upon  them,  assuring  me  that 
she  had  purchased  them  from  an  Italian  who  had  come 
there  with  a  trunk  full  of  them.  She  had  paid  a  shilling 
sterling  for  each,  frame  included.  I  could  give  no  answer 
to  the  good  lady  on  this  subject,  but  I  felt  glad  to  find 
that  she  possessed  a  feeling  heart.  One  of  her  children 
had  caught  a  siskin^  and  was  tormenting  the  poor  bird, 
when  she  rose  from  her  seat,  took  the  little  flutterer  from 
the  boy,  kissed  it,  and  gently  launched  it  into  the  air. 
This  made  me  quite  forget  the  tattle  about  the  fine  arts. 
Some  excellent  milk  was  poured  out  for  us  in  clean 
glasses.  It  was  a  pleasing  sight,  for  not  a  cow  had  we 
yet  seen  in  the  country.  The  lady  turned  the  conversa- 
tion on  music,  and  asked  if  I  played  on  any  instrument 
I  answered  that  I  did,  but  very  indifferently.  Her  forte,  she 
said,  was  music,  of  which  she  was  indeed  immoderately 
fond.    Her  instrument  had  been  sent  to  Europe  to  be  re- 


iiiiiiiiii 


m\ 


A  Musical  Instrument, 


357 


m  and 

choon- 
^isit  to 
ise  im- 
'Me  Isle, 
:  reach- 
;  wind's 
rer  both 
id,  were 
)rt  time, 
nto  the 
mmense 
interior, 
ida,  and 
Locking.' 
[ine  arts, 
the  bare 
ires,  and 
me  that 
ad  come 
1  shilling 
o  answer 
to  find 
children 
loor  bird, 
srer  firom 
the  air. 
fine  arts, 
in  clean 
IV  had  we 
conversa- 
strument 
forte,  she 
oderately 
to  be  re- 


pa./ed,  but  W3uld  return  that  season,  when  the  wliole  of 
her  children  would  again  perform  many  beautiful  airs,  for 
in  fact  anybody  could  use  it  with  ease,  as  when  she  or  the 
children  felt  fatigued  the  servant  played  on  it  for  them. 
Rather  surprised  at  the  extraordinary  powers  of  this  fam- 
ily of  musicians,  I  asked  what  sort  of  an  instrument  it 
was,  when  she  described  it  as  follows  :  '  Gentlemen,  m) 
instrument  is  large,  longer  than  broad,  and  stands  on  four 
legs  like  a  table ;  at  one  end  is  a  crooked  handle,  by 
turning  which  round  either  fast  or  slow  I  do  assure  you 
we  make  excellent  music'  The  lips  of  my  young  friends 
and  companions  instantly  curled,  but  a  glance  from  me  as 
instantly  re  compost  d  their  features.  Telling  the  fair  one 
it  must  be  a  hand-organ  she  used,  she  laughingly  said, 
*  Oh,  that  is  it,  it  is  a  hand-organ,  but  I  had  forgotten  the 
name,  and  for  the  life  of  me  could  not  recollect  it.'  The 
husband  had  gone  out  to  work,  and  was  in  the  harbor 
caulking  an  old  schooner.  He  dined  with  me  on  board 
the  Ripley,  and  proved  to  be  an  excellent  fellow.  Like 
his  brother-in-law,  he  had  seen  much  of  the  world,  having 
sailed  nearly  round  it ;  and  although  no  scholar,  like  him, 
too,  he  was  disgusted  with  it.  He  held  his  land  on  the 
same  footing  as  his  neighbors,  caught  seals  without  num- 
ber, lived  comfortably  and  happily,  visited  his  father-in- 
law  and  the  scholar  by  the  aid  of  his  dogs,  of  which  he 
kept  a  great  pack,  bartered  or  sold  his  commodities  as  his 
relations  did,  and  cared  about  nothing  else  in  the  world. 
Whenever  the  weather  was  fair  he  walked  with  his  dame 
over  the  snow-covered  rocks  of  the  neighborhood,  and 
during  winter  killed  ptarmigans  and  caraboos,  while  his 
eldest  son  attended  to  the  traps  and  skinned  the  animals 
caught  by  them.  He  had  the  only  horse  that  was  to  be 
found  in  that  part  of  the  country,  as  well  as  several  cows ; 
but,  above  all,  he  was  kind  to  every  one,  and  every  one 
spoke  well  of  him.     The  only  disngn-f  -^Me  thing  iboul 


:   <    W 


If 


'i   i 


H  \ 


.tf.  'litjL 


.^ 

^^ 

-m, 

*. 

■ 

\ 

1' 

i 

J 

. 


N^: 


358 


Life  of  Audubon, 


the  plantation  or  settlement  was  a  heap  of  fifteen  hun 
dred  carcasses  of  skinned  seals,  which  at  the  time  when 
we  visited  the  place,  in  the  montL  of  August,  notwith- 
standing the  coolness  of  the  atmosphere,  sent  forth  a 
stench  that,  according  to  the  idea  of  some  naturalists, 
might  have  sufficed  to  attract  all  the  vultures  in  the  Uni- 
ted States.  During  our  stay  at  Bras-d'Or  the  kind-heart- 
ed  and  good   Mrs. daily  sent  us  frrsh   n:  ilk   and 

butjer,  for  which  we  were  denied  the  pleasure  of  making 
am  return." 


||:     \     \ 


i 

\.' 

1 

*1 

1 

i 

1 

1  iil'  ~       \    . 

^ 

1^^^ 


MM 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

S'ote.  en  Labrador— Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence — St.  Cn\>rge's  Bay,  Nevf- 
foundland — The  Village — Fishermett  and  Women — Indian  Wig- 
warns — Beating  About  at  Sea — Land  on  Ray's  Island — Wander' 
ings  Overland — Pidou — Truro  and  the  Day  of  Fundy — Arrival 
at  Halifax^  Nova  Scotia-^Arrival  at  New  York,  and  C'alculatioM 
of  Expenses. 

UG  UST 1 1 .  At  sea,  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence.  We  are 
now  fully  fifty  miles  from  the  coast  of  Labrador. 
Fresh  water  was  taken  on  board,  and  all  prepa- 
rations were  made  last  evening,  and  this  morning  we  bid 
adieu  to  the  friends  we  had  inade  at  Labrador. 

"  Seldom  in  my  life  have  I  left  a  country  with  as  little 
regret  as  this ;  next  in  order  would  come  East  Florida, 
after  my  excursion  up  the  St.  John's  River.  As  we  sailed 
away  I  saw  probably  for  the  last  time  the  high  and  rug- 
ged hills,  partly  immersed  in  large  banks  of  fog,  that  usu- 
ally hang  over  them. 

"  Now  we  are  sailing  before  the  wind  in  full  sight  of 
the  south-west  coast  of  Newfoundland,  the  mountains  of 
which  are  high,  spotted  with  drifted  snow-banks,  and  cut 
horizontally  with  floating  strata  of  fogs  extending  along 
the  land  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reacli.  The  sea  is  quite 
smooth,  or  else  I  have  become  a  better  sailor  by  this 
rough  voyage.  Although  the  weather  is  cloudy,  it  is  such 
as  promises  in  this  region  a  fair  night.  Our  young  men 
are  playing  the  violin  and  flute,  and  I  am  scribbling  in  my 
book. 

"  It  is  worth  telling  that  during  the  two  months  we 
have  spent  on  the  coast  of  Labrador,  moving  from  one  har- 


:    ) 


' 


lit,  ^ 


4 ! 


360 


Life  of  Audubon, 


bor  to  another,  or  from  behind  one  rocky  isLind  to  another 
only  three  nights  have  been  passed  at  sea.  Twenty-three 
drawings  have  been  commenced  or  finished,  and  now  I 
am  anxious  to  know  if  what  remains  of  the  voyage  will 
prove  as  fruitful ;  and  only  hope  our  Creator  will  permit 
us  all  to  reach  our  friends  in  safety  and  find  them  well 
and  happy. 

"  August  13.  Harbor  of  St.  George's  Bay,  Newfound- 
land. By  my  dates  you  will  see  how  long  we  were  run- 
ning, as  the  sailors  call  it,  from  Labrador  to  this  place, 
where  we  anchored  at  five  this  evening.  Our  voyage 
here  was  all  in  sight  of,  and  indeed  along  the  north-west 
side  of  Newfoundland  ;  the  shores  presenting  the  highest 
lands  we  have  yet  seen.  In  some  places  the  views  were 
highly  picturesque  and  agreeable  to  the  eye,  although  the 
appearance  of  vegetation  was  but  little  better  than  at 
Labrador.  The  wind  was  fair  for  two-thirds  of  the  dis- 
tance, and  drew  gradually  ahead  and  made  us  uncomfort- 
able. 

"  This  morning  we  entered  the  mouth  of  St.  George's 
Bay,  which  is  about  forty  miles  wide  and  fifty  miles  deep, 
and  a  more  beautiful  and  ample  basin  cannot  be  found ; 
there  is  not  a  single  obstruction  within  it.  The  north- 
east shores  are  high  and  rocky,  but  the  southern  are  san- 
dy, low,  and  flattisli.  It  took  us  until  five  o'clock  to  as- 
cend it,  when  we  came  to  anchor  in  sight  of  a  small  village, 
the  only  one  we  have  seen  in  two  months  ;  and  we  are 
in  a  harbor  with  a  clay  bottom,  and  where  fifty  line-of- 
battle  ships  could  snugly  and  safely  ride. 

"The  village  is  built  on  an  elongated  point  of  sand 
or  sea  wall,  under  which  we  now  are,  and  is  perfectly 
secure  from  all  winds  except  the  north-east.  The  coun- 
try on  ascending  the  bay  became  gradually  more  woody 
and  less  rough  in  shape.  The  temperature  changed 
quite  suiidenly  this  afternoon,  and  the  weather  was  sc 


m 


St,  George*s  Bay, 


361 


another^ 
ity-three 
d  now  I 
^age  will 
1  permit 
lem  well 

jwfound- 
ere  run- 
is  place, 
r  voyage 
Drth-west 
3  highest 
ews  were 
lOUgh  the 
than  at 
■  the  dis- 
icomfort- 

George's 
les  deep, 
►e  found ; 
north- 
are  san- 
ck  to  as- 
1  village, 
we  are 
line-of- 

of  sand 
perfectly 
he  coun- 
re  woody 
changed 
•  was  so 


le 


mild  that  we  found  it  agreeable  lolling  on  deck,  and  it 
felt  warm  even  to  a  southron  like  myself  Twenty-two 
degrees  difference  in  temperature  in  two  days  is  a  very 
considerable  change. 

"We  found  here  several  sail  of  vessels  engaged  in 
the  fisheries,  and  an  old  hulk  from  Hull  in  England,  called 
Charles  Tennison,  which  was  wrecked  near  here  four 
years  ago,  on  her  way  from  Quebec  to  Hull.  As  we 
sailed  up  the  bay  two  men  boarded  us  from  a  small  boat 
and  assisted  i.s  as  pilots.  They  had  a  half  barrel  of 
fine  salmon,  which  I  bought  from  them  for  ten  dollars. 
As  soon  as  we  dropped  anchor  our  young  men  went 
ashore  to  buy  fresh  provisions,  but  they  returned  with 
nothing  but  two  bottles  of  milk,  though  the  village  contains 
two  hundred  inhabitants.  Mackerel,  and  sharks  of  the 
man-eating  kind,  are  said  to  be  abundant  here.  Some 
signs  of  cultivation  are  to  be  seen  across  the  harbor,  and 
many  huts  of  Michmaes  Indians  adorn  the  shores.  We 
learn  that  the  winters  are  not  nearly  as  severe  here  as  at 
Quebec,  yet  not  far  off  I  could  see  dots  of  snow  of  last 
year's  crop.  Some  persons  say  birds  are  plenty,  others 
say  there  are  none  hereabouts. 

"  The  ice  did  not  break  up,  so  that  this  bay  was  not 
navigable  until  the  17th  of  May,  and  I  feel  confident  that 
no  one  can  enter  the  harbors  of  Labrador  before  the  loth 
or  middle  of  June. 

"  August  14.  All  ashore  in  search  of  birds,  plants,  and 
the  usual  et  ceteras  belonging  to  our  vocations,  but  all 
had  to  return  soon  on  account  of  a  storm  of  wind  and 
rain,  showing  that  Newfoundland  is  cousin  to  Labrador 
in  tlxis  respect.  We  found  the  country  quite  rich  however 
in  comparison  with  the  latter  place  ;  all  the  vegetable  pro- 
ductions are  larger  and  more  abundant.  We  saw  ;i  flock 
of  house  sjiarrows,  all  gay  and  singing,  and  on  their  pas- 
sage to  the  south-west." 
10 


I  i 


!! 


1 

■.f 

:).  : 

\^^^-  J 

■'':, 

'  ill 

h  if;  ^ 

k 

t 

.5!' 

, 

■      ( 

ii 

362 


Life  of  Audubon. 


Audubon  names  about  twenty  different  species  of 
birds  which  he  saw  here ;  hares  and  caraboos  are  among 
the  animals,  and  among  the  wild  plants  he  found  two 
species  of  roses. 

"  The  women  flew  before  us  as  if  wc  were  wild  beasts, 
and  one  who  had  a  pail  of  water,  at  sight  of  us,  dropped 
it,  and  ran  to  hide  herself;  another  who  was  looking  for 
a  cow,  on  seeing  us  coming,  ran  into  the  woods,  and  after- 
wards crossed  a  stream  waist  deep  to  get  home  to  her  hut 
without  passing  us.  We  are  told  that  no  laws  are  admin- 
istered herCj  a  ^  -i  to  my  surprise  not  a  sign  of  a  church 
exists.  The  p  tple  are  all  fishermen  and  live  poorly ;  in 
one  enclosure  ^  \aw  a  few  pretty  good-looking  cabbage^ 
We  can  buy  only  milk  and  herrings,  the  latter  ten  cents  a 
dozen ;  we  were  asked  eight  dollars  for  a  tolerable  calf, 
but  chickt;5S  were  too  scarce  to  be  obtained.  Two  clear- 
ings across  the  bay  are  the  only  si;^ns  of  cultivated  land. 
Not  a  horse  has  yet  m-^de  its  way  into  the  country,  and 
not  even  a  true  Newfoi  "and  dog,  nothing  but  curs  of  a 
mLxed  breed. 

"  Some  of  the  buildings  looked  like  miserable  hovels, 
others  more  like  habitable  houses.  Not  a  blacksmith's 
shop  here,  and  yet  one  would  probably  do  well.  The 
customs  of  the  people  are  partly  Canadian  and  partly 
English.  The  women  all  wear  cotton  caps  covering  their 
ears.  The  passage  to  and  from  our  vessel  to  the  shore  was 
the  roughest  I  ever  made  in  an  open  boat,  and  we  were 
completely  soaked  by  the  waves  which  dashed  over  us. 

'■''August  15.  We  have  had  a  bea;-tiful  day.  This 
morning  some  Indians  came  alongside  of  our  vessel  with 
half  a  reindeer,  a  caraboo,  and  a  hare  of  a  species  I  had 
never  seen  before.  We  gave  them  twenty-one  pounds  of 
pork  for  forty-four  pounds  of  venison,  thiity-three  pounds 
of  bread  for  the  caMbno,  and  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  for  the 
hare.     The  Inci-^ns  sho...;d  nmch  cleverness  in  striking 


Newfoundland, 


3^3 


:ies  of 
among 
nd  two 

beasts, 
Iropped 
ang  for 
id  after- 

her  hut 
;  admin- 
L  church 
lorlyj  in 
abbage'' 
n  cents  a 
ible  calf, 
wo  clear- 
ed land. 


itry, 


and 


curs  of  a 


1. 


hovels, 
smith's 
The 
nd  partly 
ring  their 
lore  was 
we  were 
over  us. 
This 
ssel  with 
ies  I  had 
)ounds  of 
c  pounds 
ar  for  the 
striking 


ly 


the  bargain.  I  spent  part  of  the  day  drawing,  and  then 
visited  the  wigwams  of  the  Indians  across  the  bay.  We 
found  them,  as  I  expected,  all  lying  down  pell-mell  in 
iheir  wigwams,  and  a  strong  mixture  of  blood  was  per 
ceptible  in  their  skins,  shape,  and  deportment :  some 
were  almost  white,  and  sorry  I  am  to  say,  that  the  nearet 
^they  were  to  our  nobler  race  the  filtliier  and  the  lazier 
they  were.  The  women  and  children  were  particularly 
disgusting  in  this  respect.  Some  of  the  women  were  ma- 
king baskets,  and  otlicrs  came  in  from  collecting  a  fruit 
called  here  the  baked  apple  {Rubus  chamLcnrous\  and 
when  burnt  a  little  it  tastes  exactly  like  a  roasted  apple. 
The  children  were  catching  lobsters  and  eels,  of  which 
there  are  a  great  many  in  the  bay,  as  there  are  in  all  the 
bays  of  the  island,  whilst  at  Labrador  this  shell-fish  is 

very  rare.     The  young  Indian'^  found  them  by  wading  to 
their  knees  in  eel  grass. 

"  We  bargained  with  two  of  the  hunters  to  go  with  our 
young  men  into  the  interior  to  hunt  for  caraboos,  hares, 
and  partridges,  which  they  agreed  to  do  for  a  dollar  a  day. 
The  Indians  cook  lobsters  by  roasting  them  in  a  i)ile  of 
brushwood,  and  eat  them  without  any  salt  or  other  con- 
diment. The  caraboos  are  at  this  date  in  *  velvet,'  their 
skins  are  now  light  grey,  and  the  flesh  poor  but  tender. 
The  average  weight  of  this  animal,  when  in  good  condi- 
tion, is  four  hundred  pounds.  In  the  early  part  of  March 
they  leave  the  hilly  grounds,  whore  no  moss  or  any  other 
food  can  be  obtain  .d,  and  resort  to  the  shores  of  the  sea 
to  feed  on  kelp  and  other  sea  grasses  cut  up  by  the  ice 
and  cast  up  by  the  waves  along  *he  shore.  Groups  of 
several  hundreds  may  be  seen  at  one  time  thus  feeding : 
their  flesh  here  is  not  much  esteemed ;  it  tastes  like  in- 
different, poor,  but  very  tender  venison. 

"  August  17.  We  should  now  be  ploughing  the  deep 
had  tb "  'vind  been  fair,  but  it  has  been  ahead,  and  we 


I  ■  'I 


364 


\ife  of  Audubon, 


remain  here  in  statu  quo.  The  truth  is,  we  have  deter 
mined  not  to  leave  this  harbor  without  a  fair  prospect  of  a 
good  run,  and  then  we  shall  trust  to  Providence  after  that 
I  have  added  a  curious  species  of  alder  to  my  drawing  of 
/he  white-winged  cross-bill,  and  finished  it.  We  received 
a  visit  from  Mr.,  Mrs.,  and  Miss  Forest ;  they  brought  us 
some  salad  and  fresh  butter,  and  in  return  we  gave  them 
a  glass  of  wine  and  some  raisins.  The  old  lady  and  gen- 
tleman talked  well ;  he  complained  of  the  poverty  of  the 
country  and  the  disadvantages  he  experienced  from  the 
privileges  granted  to  the  French  on  this  coast.  They 
told  me  they  were  relatives  of  Lord  Plunket,  and  that 
they  were  well  acquainted  with  our  friend  Edward  Harris 
an'l  his  family.  I  gave  them  my  card,  and  showed  them 
the  Duke  of  Sussex's  letter,  which  they  borrowed  and 
iook  home  to  copy.  I  had  also  a  visit  from  an  old  French- 
man who  has  resided  on  this  famous  island  for  fifty  years. 
He  assured  me  that  no  red  Indians  are  now  to  be  found  ; 
the  last  he  had  heard  of  were  seen  twenty-two  years  ago. 
It  is  said  that  these  natives  give  no  quarter  to  anybody, 
but,  after  killing  their  foes,  cut  off  their  heads  and  leave 
their  bodies  to  the  wild  beasts  of  the  country. 

"  Several  docks  of  golden-winged  plovers  passed  over 
the  bay  this  forenoon,  and  two  lestris  pomerania  came  in 
this  evening.  The  ravens  abound  here,  but  no  crows 
have  yet  been  seen ;  the  great  tern  are  passing  south  by 
thousands,  and  a  small  flock  of  Canada  geese  were  also 
scv-n.  The  young  of  the  golden-crested  wren  were  shot 
A  muscipcapa  was  killed,  which  is  probably  new.  I 
bought  seven  Newfoundland  dogs  for  seventeen  dollars : 
two  bitches,  four  pups,  and  a  dog  two  years  old.  With 
these  I  shall  be  able  to  fulfill  pronu'wes  made  to  fi-iends  to 
bring  them  dogs. 

"On  the  i8th  of  Augiift  at  day!5^^  the  wind  promis- 
ed to  be  fair,  and  although  k  wis  raAer  cl«i%  we  brak« 


deter 
ictofa 
IT  that 
/ing  of 
iceived 
ight  us 
i  them 
id  gen- 
of  the 
Dm  the 
They 
id  that 
Harris 
d  them 
ed  and 
French- 
y  years. 
;  found ; 
irs  ago. 
nybody, 
d  leave 

,ed  over 
came  m 
crows 
3uth  by 
re  also 
re  shot 
new.  I 
dollars 
With 
iends  to 

promis- 
e  broke 


///  Pictouy  Nova  Scotia, 


365 


our  anchorage,  and  at  five  o'clock  were  under  weigh.  We 
joastcd  along  Newfoundland  until  evening,  when  the  wind 
rose  to  a  tempest  from  the  south-west,  and  our  vessel  was 
laid  to  at  dark,  and  we  danced  and  kicked  over  the  waves 
the  whole  of  that  night  and  the  next  day.  The  next  day 
the  storm  abated,  but  the  wind  was  still  so  adverse  thai 
we  coukl  not  make  the  Gannet  Rock  or  any  part  of  New- 
foundland, and  towards  the  latter  we  steered,  for  none  of 
us  could  bear  the  idea  of  returning  to  Labrador.  During 
the  nij;ht  the  weather  moderated,  and  the  ne.xt  day  we 
laid  our  course  for  the  Straits  of  Canseau  ;  but  suddenly 
the  wind  failed,  and  during  the  calm  it  was  agreed  that 
we  would  try  and  reach  Piclou  in  Nova  Scotia,  and  trav- 
el by  land.  We  are  now  beating  about  towards  that  port, 
and  hope  to  reach  it  early  to-morrow  morning.  The 
captain  will  then  sail  for  Eastport,  and  we,  making  our 
vay  by  land,  will  probably  reach  there  as  soon  as  he. 
The  great  desire  we  all  have  to  see  Pictou,  Halifax,  and 
the  country  between  there  and  Eastport  is  our  induce- 
ment." 

"  August  22.  After  attempting  to  beat  our  vessel  into 
the  harbor  of  Pictou,  but  without  succeeding,  we  conclud- 
ed that  myself  and  party  should  be  put  on  shore,  and  the 
Ripley  should  sail  back  to  the  Straits  of  Canseau,  the 
wind  and  tide  being  favorable.  We  drank  a  parting  glass 
to  our  wives  and  friends,  and  our  excellent  little  captain 
took  us  to  the  shore,  whilst  the  vessel  stood  up  to  the 
wind,  with  all  sails  set,  waiting  for  the  captain. 

"  We  happened  to  land  on  an  island  called  Ruy's  Isl- 
and, where,  fortunately  for  us,  we  met  some  mc.'u  mak- 
ing hay.  Two  of  them  agreed  to  carry  our  trunks  and 
two  of  our  party  to  Pictou  for  two  dollars.  Our  effects 
«»ere  put  in  a-  boat  in  a  trice,  and  we  shook  hands  heart- 
ily with  the  captain,  towards  whom  we  all  now  feel  much 
real  attachment,   and    after    mutual   adieus,    and   good 


n 

i 

1 

4 

■ 

i 

1 

f 


If 


'f 


\ 


i  I   ! 


litfil 


i^ 

Hm'  I 

V  ^ 

pi  ' 

Bha*i 

HI. 

R 

1^:- 

i; 

r 

■i! 
i; 

4-  ■ 

E 

f' 

366 


Life  of  Audubon, 


Irishes  for  the  completion  of  our  respective  journeys,  we 
parted,  giving  each  other  three  most  hearty  cheers. 

"  We  were  nov,  thank  God,  positively  on  the  main 
shore  of  our  native  land ;  and  after  four  days'  confine- 
ment in  our  birth?,  and  sea-sickness,  and  the  :pa  and  ves- 
sel, and  all  their  smells  and  discomforts,  we  were  so  re- 
freshed, that  the  thought  of  walking  nine  miles  seemed 
nothing  more  than  figuring  through  a  single  quadrille. 
The  air  felt  uncommonly  warm,  and  the  country,  com- 
pared with  those  we  had  so  lately  left,  appeared  perfectly 
beautiful,  and  we  inhaled  the  fragrance  of  the  new  mown 
grass,  as  if  nothing  sweeter  ever  existed.  Even  the  music 
of  crickets  was  delightfal  to  my  ears,  for  no  such  insect  is 
to  be  found  either  at  Labrador  or  Newfoundland.  The 
voice  of  a  blue  jay  sounded  melody  to  me,  and  the  sight  of 
a  humming-bird  quite  filled  my  mind  with  delight. 

"  We  were  conveyed  to  the  main,  only  a  very  short  dis- 
tance, Ingalls  and  Coolidge  remaining  in  the  boat  ;  and 
the  rest  took  the  road,  along  which  we  moved  as  lightly  as 
if  boys  just  released  from  school.  The  road  was  good,  or 
seemed  to  be  so  ;  the  woods  were  tail  timber,  and  the  air, 
which  circulated  freely,  was  all  perfume  ;  and  every  plant 
we  saw  brought  to  mind  some  portion  of  the  United 
States,  and  we  all  felt  quite  happy.  Now  and  then  as  we 
crossed  a  hill,  and  cast  our  eyes  back  on  the  sea,  we  saw 
our  beautiful  vessel  sailing  freely  before  the  wind,  and  as 
she  diminished  towards  the  horizon,  she  at  last  appeared 
like  a  white  speck,  or  an  eagle  floating  in  the  air,  and  we 
wished  our  captain  a  most  safe  voyage  to  Quoddy. 

"  We  reached  the  shore  opposite  Pictou  in  two  and  a 
half  hours,  and  lay  down  on  the  giass  to  await  the  arrival 
of  the  boat,  and  gazed  on  the  scenery  around  us.  A  num- 
ber of  American  vessels  lay  in  the  harbor  loading  with 
coal.  The  village  located  at  the  bottom  of  a  fine  bay  on 
the  north-west  side  looked  well,  although  small.     Thre? 


u 


Professor  McCulIough. 


3^1 


iys,  we 

e  main 
:onfine« 
ind  ves- 
:  so  re- 
seemed 
ladrille. 
f,  com- 
lerfectly 
r  mown 
e  music 
insect  is 
1.  The 
sight  of 

hort  dis- 

it  ;   and 

ghtly  as 

good,  or 

the  air, 

ry  plant 

United 

n  as  we 

^ve   saw 

and  as 

ipeared 

and  we 

and  a 

arrival 
A  num- 
ig  with 
bay  on 
Tljre« 


churches  appeared  above  the  rest  of  the  buildings,  all  ol 
wood,  and  several  vessels  were  building  on    the    stocks. 

"  The  whole  country  seemed  to  be  in  a  high  state  ol 
cultivation,  and  looked  well.  The  population  is  about 
two  thousand.  Our  boat  came,  and  we  crossed  the  bay^ 
and  we  put  up  at  the  Royal  Oak,  the  best  hotel  in  the 
place,  where  we  obtained  an  excellent  supper.  The  very 
treading  of  a  carpeted  floor  was  comfortable.  In  the 
evening  we  called  on  Professor  McCullough,  who  re- 
ceived us  kindly,  gave  us  a  glass  of  wine,  and  showed  us 
his  collection  of  well-preserved  birds  and  other  things, 
and  invited  us  to  breakfast  to-morrow  at  eight  o'clock, 
when  we  are  further  to  inspect  his  curiosities.  The  pro- 
fessor's mansion  is  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  town,  ar.d 
looks  much  like  a  small  English  villa. 

"  August  23.  We  had  an  excellent  Scotch  breakfast  at 
the  professor's  tins  morning,  and  hib  family,  consisting  of 
wife,  tour  sons  and  daughters,  and  a  wife's  sister,  were  all 
present.  The  more  I  saw  and  talked  with  the  professor, 
the  more  I  was  pleosed  with  him.  I  showed  him  r  few 
of  my  Lnbrador  drawings,  after  which  we  marched  in  a 
body  to  the  university,  and  again  examined  his  fine  col- 
lection. I  found  there  half  a  dozen  specimens  of  birds, 
which  I  longed  for,  and  said  so,  and  he  offered  them  to 
me  with  so  much  apparent  good  will,  that  I  took  them 
and  thanked  him.  He  then  asked  me  t3  look  around  and 
see  if  there  were  any  other  objects  I  would  like  to  have. 
He  offered  me  all  his  fresh-water  shells,  and  such  miner- 
als as  we  might  choose,  and  I  took  a  few  specim'ins  of 
iron  and  copper.  He  asked  me  what  I  thought  of  his 
collection,  and  I  gave  him  my  answer  in  writing,  adding 
F.R.S.  to  my  name,  and  telling  him  that  I  wished  it  might 
prove  useful  to  him.  1  am  much  surprised  that  his  valua 
ble  collection  has  not  been  purchased  by  the  Governor  of 
the  province,  to  whom  he  offered  it  for  five  hundred 
pounds.    I  think  it  worth  a  thousand  pounds. 


;    I 


v 


u  ■  J "  • 


m 


J68 


Life  of  Audubon. 


\  't\'^. 


"  On  our  return  to  the  hotel  we  were  met  b)  Mr 
Blanchard,  the  deputy  consul  for  the  United  States,  an 
agreeable  man,  who  offered  frankly  to  do  anything  in  his 
power  to  make  our  visit  fruitful  and  pleasant.  *  Time 
up,'  and  the  coach  almost  ready,  our  bill  was  paid,  our 
birds  packed,  and  I  walked  ahead  about  a  mile  out  of 
the  town,  with  Mr,  Blanchard,  who  spoke  much  of  Eng- 
land, and  was  acquainted  with  Mr.  Adamson,  and  some 
other  friends  whom  I  knew  at  Newcastle-on-Tyne. 

"  The  coach  came  up,  I  shook  hands  with  Mr.  Blan- 
chard, jumped  in,  and  away  we  went  for  Truro,  distant 
forty  miles.  The  rain  began  to  fall,  antl  the  wind  to 
blow  from  the  east,  a  good  wind  for  the  Ripley,  and  on 
we  rolled  on  as  good  a  road  as  any  in  England,  were  it 
only  a  little  broader.  We  now  passed  through  a  fine 
tract  of  country,  well  wooded,  well  cultivated,  and  a  won- 
derful relief  to  our  fatigued  eyes,  which  had  so  long  been 
seeing  only  desolate  regions,  snow,  and  tempestuous 
storms. 

"By  four  in  the  afternoon  we  were  hungry,  and 
stopped  at  a  house  to  dine,  and  it  now  rained  faster 
than  before.  Two  ladies,  and  the  husband  of  one  of 
them  as  I  supposed,  had  arrived  before  us,  in  an  open 
cart  or  Jersey  waggon ;  and  I,  with  all  the  gallantry  be- 
longing to  my  na'.ure,  offered  to  exchange  vehicles  with 
them,  which  they  readily  accepted,  but  without  express- 
ing any  thanks  in  return.  After  dinner  Shattuck,  Ingalls, 
and  myself  jumped  into  the  open  thing ;  I  was  seated  by 
the  side  of  my  so-so  Irish  dame,  and  our  horse  moved  off 
at  a  very  good  speed. 

"  Our  exchange  soon  proved  an  excellent  one,  for  the 
weather  cleared  up,  and  we  saw  the  country  much  better 
than  we  could  have  done  in  the  coach,  where  there  were 
so  many  passengers  that  we  should  have  been  squeezed 
together  closely.     Directly  Professor  McCul lough  came 


Visits  7'ruro,  Nova  Scotia. 


3f'9 


up  with  us,  and  told  us  he  would  see  us  to-morrow  at 
Truro.  Towards  sunset  wc  arrived  in  si^dit  of  this  pret 
ty,  loosely-built  village,  near  the  head-w  iters  of  the  B..^ 
of  Fundy.  The  view  filled  me  with  deli«;li',  and  the 
pleasure  was  deepened  by  the  cons(  iousness  that  my 
course  was  homeward,  and  I  was  but  a  few  days  from  the 
dearest  being  to  me  on  ear     . 

"We  reached  the  t.ivern,  which  the  hotel  where  we 
stopped  was  calted,  but  as  it  could  accommodate  only 
three  of  us,  we  cross'  d  the  street  to  another  house,  where 
we  ordered  a  substantial  supper.  Professor  McCullough 
came  in,  and  introduced  us  to  several  members  of  the 
Assembly  of  this  province. 

"We  tried  in  vain  to  get  a  conveyance  to  take  us  to 
Halifax,  distant  sixty-four  miles,  in  the  morning,  to  avoid 
riding  all  night  in  the  mail-coach,  but  could  not  succeed. 
Mr.  McCullough  then  took  me  to  the  residence  of  Sam- 
uel G.  Archibald,  Esq.,  Speaker  of  the  Assembly,  who  re- 
ceived me  most  affably,  and  introduced  me  to  his  lad  • 
and  handsome  young  daughter;  the  former  wore  a  cap 
fashionable  four  years  ago  at  home  (England).  T  showed 
them  a  few  drawings,  and  received  a  letter  from  the 
Speaker  to  the  Chief  Justice  at  Halifax,  and  bid  them  all 
good  night ;  and  am  now  waiting  the  mail  to  resume  y 
journey.  Meanwhile  let  me  say  a  few  words  on  this  lit- 
tle village.  It  is  situated  in  the  centre  of  a  most  beauti- 
ful valley  of  great  extent,  and  under  complete  cultivation  ; 
looking  westerly  a  broad  sheet  of  water  is  seen,  forming 
the  head  of  the  famous  Bay  of  Fundy,  and  several  brooks 
run  through  the  valley  emptjing  into  it.  The  buildings, 
although  principally  of  wood,  are  good-looking,  and  as 
cleanly  as  any  of  our  pietty  New  England  villages,  well 
painted,  and  green  blinds.  The  general  appearance  of 
the  people  quite  took  me  by  surprise,  being  extremely 
genteel.  The  coach  is  at  the  door,  the  corner  of  my 
16* 


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370 


Life  of  Audubon, 


■'"    ',!'' 


trunk  is  gasping  to  swallow  this  book,  and  I  must  put  it 
in  and  be  off. 

"  August  24.  Wind  east,  and  hauling  to  the  north- 
east— all  good  for  the  Ripley.  We  are  at  Halifax,  Nova 
Scotia,  and  this  is  the  way  we  got  here : — Last  night  at 
eleven  we  seated  ourselves  in  the  coach  ;  the  moon  shone 
bright,  and  the  night  was  beautifui ;  but  we  could  only 
partially  observe  the  country  until  the  day  dawned.  But 
we  found  out  that  the  road  was  hilly  and  the  horses  lazy, 
and  after  riding  twenty  miles  we  stopped  to  change 
horses  and  warm  ourselves.  Shortly  the  cry  came, 
'Coach  ready,  gentlemen.'  In  we  jumped,  and  on  we 
rode  for  a  mile  and  a  half,  when  the  linch-pin  broke,  and 
we  came  to  a  stand-still.  Ingalls  took  charge  of  the 
horses,  and  responded  10  the  hoot  of  the  owls,  which 
sounded  out  from  the  woods,  and  the  rest  of  the  party, 
excepting  Coolidge  and  myself,  slept  soundly,  while  we 
were  enduring  that  disagreeable  experience  of  travellers 
—detention — which  is  most  disagreeable  in  this  latitude? 
and  especially  at  night.  Looking  up  the  road,  the  vacil- 
lating glimmer  of  the  candle,  intended  to  assist  the  driver 
in  finding  the  linch-pin,  was  all  that  could  be  distinguish- 
ed, and  we  began  to  feel  what  is  called  *  wolfish.'  The 
man  returned,  but  found  no  pin — it  could  not  be  found, 
and  another  quarter  of  an  hour  was  spent  in  fumbling 
round  with  ropes  to  tie  our  vehicle  together.  At  length 
the  day  dawned  beautiftlly,  and  I  ran  ahead  of  the  coacji 
for  a  mile  cr  so  to  warm  myself;  and  when  the  coach 
came  up  I  got  up  with  the  driver  to  try  to  obtain  some 
infDrmation  respecting  the  country,  which  was  becoming 
poorer  and  poorer  the  further  we  travelled.  Hunger 
again  now  began  to  press  us,  and  we  were  told  that  it  was 
twenty-five  miles  from  the  lost  linch-pin  to  the  breakfast- 
house.  I  persuaded  the  driver  to  stop  at  a  wayside  tav- 
ern, and  inquire  the  prospects  for  getting  some  chickens 


' 


■  •  I  !l 


Night  Ride  to  Halifax. 


371 


lust  put  it 

he   north- 
ifax,  Nova 
t  night  at 
oon  shone 
:ould  only 
Tied.     But 
lorses  lazy, 
to  change 
cry    came, 
and  on  we 
broke,  and 
rge  of  the 
)wls,  which 
■  the  party, 
IT,  while  we 
f  travellers 
lis  latitude; 
1,  the  vacil- 
,t  the  driver 
distinguish- 
.fish.'     The 
t  be  found, 
n  fumbling 

At  length 
if  the  coacji 

the  coach 
Ibtain  some 

becoming 
Hunger 

that  it  was 

breakfast- 
ayside  tav- 

e  chickens 


or  boiled  eggs  ;  but  the  proprietor  said  it  was  impossible 
foi  him  to  furnish  a  breakfast  for  six  persons  of  our  ap* 
peurance. 

"  We  passed  on,  and  soon  came  to  the  track  of  a 
good-sized  bear  in  the  road,  and  after  a  wearisome  ride 
reached  the  breakfost  ground,  at  a  house  situated  on  the 
margin  of  a  lake  called  Grand  Lake,  which  abounds  with 
fine  fish,  and  soles  in  the  season.  This  lake  forms  part 
of  the  channel  which  was  intended  to  be  cut  for  connect- 
ing the  Atlantic  Ocean  and  the  Bay  of  Fundy  with  the 
Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  at  Bay  Verte.  Ninety  thousand 
pounds  have  been  expended  on  the  enterprise,  and  the 
canal  is  not  finished,  and  probably  never  will  be  j  for  the 
government  will  not  assist,  and  private  efforts  seem  to 
have  exhausted  themselves.  This  point  is  seventeen 
miles  from  Halifax,  and  must  afford  a  pleasant  residence 
for  summer. 

"The  road  from  that  tavern  to  Halifa.\  is  level  and 
good,  though  rather  narrow,  and  a  very  fine  drive  for  pri' 
vate  carriages.  We  saw  the  flag  of  the  garrison  at  Hali 
fax,  two  miles  before  we  reached  the  place,  when  we  sud- 
denly turned  short,  and  brought  up  at  a  gate  fronting  a 
wharf,  at  which  lay  a  small  steam-ferry  boat.  The  gate 
was  shut,  and  the  mail  was  detained  nearly  an  hour  wait- 
ing for  it  to  be  opened.  Why  did  not  Mrs.  Trollope  visit 
Halifax  ?  The  number  of  negro  men  and  women,  beg- 
garly-looking blacks,  would  have  furnished  materials  for 
her  descriptive  pen. 

"  We  crossed  the  harbor,  in  which  we  saw  a  sixty-four 
gun  flag-ship  riding  at  anchor.  The  coach  drove  up  to 
the  house  of  Mr.  Paul,  the  best  hotel,  where  we  with  dif- 
ficulty obtained  one  room  with  four  beds  for  six  persons. 
With  a  population  of  eighteen  thousand  souls,  and  two 
thousand  mpre  of  soldiers,  Halifax  has  not  one  good 
hotel,  and  only  two  very  indifferent  private  boarding- 


f 


Hhl 


III 


37* 


Life  of  Audubon. 


houses,  where  the  attendance  is  miserable,  and  the  table 
by  no  means  good.     We  are,  however,  settled. 

"  We  have  walked  about  the  town  ;  but  every  one  of 
as  has  sore  feet  in  consequence  of  walking  on  hard 
ground,  after  having  roamed  for  two  months  on  the  softi 
deep  mosses  of  Labrador.  The  card  of  an  Italian  was 
sent  to  our  rooms,  telling  us  that  he  had  fine  baths  of  all 
sorts,  and  we  went  off  to  his  rooms  and  found  only  one 
tin  tub,  and  a  hole  undergiound,  into  which  the  sea-water 
filters,  about  the  size  of  a  hogshead.  I  plunged  into  this 
hole  with  Ingalls  and  Shattuck,  then  rubbed  ourselves 
dry  with  curious  towels,  and  paid  six  cents  each  for  the 
accommodation.  We  then  walked  to  the  garrison,  listen- 
ed to  the  music,  returned  to  the  hotel,  and  have  written 
this,  and  now  send  in  my  card  to  the  aide-de-camp  of  the 
Governor  of  Ne'.vfoundland,  who  resides  in  this  house. 

"  August  25.  To-day  I  walked  to  the  wharves,  and  was 
surprised  to  find  them  every  one  gated  and  locked,  and 
sentinels  standing  guard  everywhere.  In  the  afternoon 
there  was  a  military  funeral ;  it  was  a  grand  sight,  the 
soldiers  walked  far  apart,  guns  inverted,  to  the  sound  of 
the  finest  anthem,  and  wonderfully  well  executed  by  an 
excellent  band. 

"  There  are  no  signs  of  style  here  ;  only  two  ordinary 
barouches  came  to  church  to-day  (the  Episcopal),  where 
the  bishop  said  the  prayers  and  preached.  All  the 
churches  receive  a  certain  number  of  soldiers  dressed  in 
uniform.  The  natives  of  the  province  are  called  *  Blue 
Noses,'  and  to-morrow  we  intend  to  see  all  we  can  of 
them. 

"August  26.  To-day  I  delivered  letters  which  1 
brought  to  Bishop  Inglis  and  the  Chief  Justice,  but  did 
not  find  them  at  home.  To-morrow  we  hope  to  leave 
here  for  Windsor,  distant  forty-five  miles. 

"August  27.  At  nine  o'clock  we  entered  the  coach,  01 


BBRB 


Prince  Edward's  Loage, 


t73 


rather  five  of  us  entered  it,  as  it  would  hold  no  more,  and 
one  was  obliged  to  take  an  outside  seat  in  the  rain.  The 
road  from  Halifax  to  Windsor  is  macadamized  and  good, 
winding  through  undulating  hills  and  valleys  ;  our  horses 
were  good,  and  although  we  had  but  one  pair  at  a  time, 
we  travelled  six  and  a  half  miles  an  hour.  For  more 
than  nine  miles  our  course  was  along  the  borders  of  the 
Bay  of  Halifax ;  the  view  was  pleasant,  and  here  and 
there  we  noticed  tolerably  gook-looking  summer-houses. 
Near  the  head  of  this  bay,  said  the  driver,  an  English 
fleet  pursued  a  squadron  of  seven  French  ships,  and  forc- 
ed them  to  haul  down  their  colors ;  but  the  French  com- 
mander^ or  admiral,  sunk  all  his  vessels,  preferring  to  do 
this  to  surrendering  them  to  the  British.  The  water  was 
so  deep  at  this  place  that  the  tops  of  the  masts  of  the 
vessels  went  deep  out  of  sight,  and  have  been  seen  only 
once  since  then,  which  was  more  than  twenty  years  ago. 

"We  passed  the  abandoned  lodge  of  Prince  Edward, 
who  spent  about  one  million  of  pounds  on  this  building 
and  the  grounds,  but  the  whole  is  now  a  ruin ;  thirty 
years  have  passed  since  it  was  in  its  splendor.  On  leav- 
ing the  waters  of  the  bay,  we  followed  those  of  the  Sal- 
mon River,  a  small  rivulet  of  swift  water,  which  abounds 
with  salmon,  trout,  elwines,  &c,  The  whole  country  is 
poor,  very  poor,  yet  under  tolerable  cultivation  all  the 
way.  We  passed  the  seat  of  Mr.  Jeffries,  the  President 
of  the  Assembly,  now  Acting  Governor ;  his  house  is 
good-looking,  large,  and  the  grounds  around  it  are  in  fine 
order.  It  is  situated  between  two  handsome  fresh-water 
lakes  ;  indeed  the  whole  country  through  which  we  trav- 
elled is  interspersed  with  lakes,  all  of  them  abounding 
in  trout  and  eels. 

"We  passed  the  college  and  common  school,  both 
looking  well,  and  built  of  fine  freestone ;  a  church  and 
several  other  fine  buildings  line  the  road,  on  which  the 


.     I 


if 


»    ■■\ 


li 


l>    f 


m 


^ 


"4 : 


374 


Life  of  Audubon, 


i 


%.i. 


i?i  '- 


f " 


president  and  rector  reside.  We  crossed  the  head  of  the 
St.  Croix  River,  which  rolls  its  waters  impetuously  into 
the  Bay  of  Fundy.  Here  the  lands  were  all  dyked,  and 
the  crops  looked  very  well,  and  from  that  river  to  Wind- 
sor the  country  improved  rapidly. 

"  Windsor  is  a  small  and  rather  neat  village,  on  the 
east  side  of  the  River  Windsor,  and  is  supported  by  the 
vast  banks  of  plaster  of  Paris  around  it.  This  valuable 
article  is  shipped  in  British  vessels  to  Eastport  and  else- 
where in  large  quantities. 

"  Our  coach  stopped  at  the  door  of  the  best  private 
boarding-house,  for  nowhere  in  this  province  have  .we 
heard  of  hotels.  The  house  was  full,  and  we  went  to  an- 
other, where,  after  waiting  two  hours,  we  obtained  an  in- 
different sapper.  The  view  from  this  village  was  as  novel 
to  me  as  the  coast  of  Labrador.  The  bed  of  the  river, 
which  is  here  about  one  mile  wide,  was  quite  bare  as  far 
as  the  eye  could  reach,  say  for  ten  miles,  scarcely  any  wa- 
ter to  be  seen,  and  yet  the  place  where  we  stood  was  six- 
ty-five feet  above  the  bed,  which  plainly  showed  that  at 
high  tide  this  wonderful  basin  must  be  filled  to  the  brim. 
Opposite  us,  and  indeed  the  whole  country,  is  dyked  in  ; 
and  vessels  left  dry  at  the  great  elevation,  fastened  .lo  the 
wharves,  had  a  singular  appearance.  We  are  told  that 
now  and  then  some  vessels  have  slid  sideways  from  the 
top  of  the  bank  down  to  the  level  of  the  gravelly  bed  of 
the  river.  The  shores  are  covered  for  a  hundred  yards 
with  a  reddish  mud.  This  looks  more  like  the  result  of 
a  great  freshet  than  of  a  tide,  and  I  long  to  see  the  waters 
of  the  sea  advancing  at  the  rate  of  four  knots  an  hour  to 
fill  this  basin,  a  sight  I  hope  to  see  to-morrow." 

August  28.  Here  follows  the  description  of  the  ex- 
traordinary rise  and  fall  of  the  waters,  and  they  are  evi- 
dently tlie  notes  from  which  Audubon  wrote  his  episode 
of  the  Bay  of  Fundy.     The  day  was  passed  in  rambling 


Sl  Johns  by  Moonlight. 


.175 


in  search  of  birds  in  this  vicinity.  The  record  for  the  da) 
concludes :  "  We  intended  to  have  paid  our  respects  to 
Mr.  Halliburton,  author  of  the  *  Description  of  Nova 
Scotia,'  and  other  works,  but  we  learned  that  he  was  in 
Boston,  where  I  heartily  wished  myself. 

" Eastport,  Maine^  August  "^^^  1833.  We  arrived  here 
yesterday  afternoon  in  the  steamer  Maid  of  the  Mist,  all 
well.  We  left  Windsor  a  quarter  before  twelve,  and 
reached  St.  John's,  New  Brunswick,  at  two  o'clock  at 
night;  passed  Cape  Blow-me-Down,  Cape  Split,  and 
Cape  D'Or  ;  the  passengers  were  few,  and  we  were  com- 
fortable. We  traversed  the  streets  of  St.  John's  by  moon- 
light, and  in  the  morning  I  had  the  pleasure  to  meet  my 
friend  Edward  Harris,  and  to  receive  letters  from  home  \ 
and  I  am  now  preparing  to  leave  for  Boston  as  soon  as 
possible." 

The  account  of  the  voyage  concludes  with  this  sen- 
tence : 

"  We  reached  New  York  on  the  morning  of  the  Vth 
of  September,  and,  thank  God,  found  all  well.  I  paid  the 
balance  of  the  Ripley's  charter  (eight  hundred  and  sixty- 
two  dollars),  and  a  balance  of  four  hundred  and  thirty 
dollars  to  Dr.  Parkman,  which  he  advanced  to  Dr.  Shat- 
tiick  for  me.  And  I  was  not  very  well  pleased  that  near- 
ly the  whole  burden  of  the  Labrador  voyage  was  put  on 
my  shoulders,  or  rather  taken  out  of  my  poor  purse  ;  but 
I  was  silent,  and  no  one  knew  my  thoughts  on  that 
subject** 


ni 


►  ■  n 


I  •!: 


'■  t" 


1  i 


m  1 


t  *■' 


■'li 

If  ti 

m 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

^mrnal  Resumed—  Washington  Irving —  Wanderings  South — Florida 
Excursion  Abandoned — Returns  North — Sai/i  for  England — 
Visit  to  Baron  Rothschild — Removal  to  Edinburgh — Return  tt 
London — Embarks  with  much  Live  Stock  to  New  York — Notet 
by  the  Way. 

EPTEMBER  7,  1833.  After  Audubon's  return 
from  Labrador  he  remained  three  weeks  in  New 
York,  and  then  made  all  his  preparations  for  a 
journey  to  Florida.  He  forwarded  to  his  son  Victor,  in 
England,  thirteen  drawings  of  land  birds,  which  he  had 
prepared  to  complete  the  second  volume  of  the  great 
workj  and  he  left  seventeen  drawings  of  sea  birds  to 
be  forwarded  in  October,  for  the  commencement  of  his 
third  volume.  As  an  evidence  of  the  value  Audubon  set 
on  these  drawings,  we  may  note  that  he  insured  both  par- 
cels for  two  thousand  dollars  each. 

September  25.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Audubon  left  New  York 
for  Philadelphia  on  their  way  to  Florida,  leaving  their  son 
John  to  sail  from  New  York  by  water,  "  with  all  our  arti- 
cles of  war,"  for  Charleston,  where  they  proposed  to  meet. 
The  journal  says  :  "  The  weather  was  delightful,  and  we 
reached  Philadelphia  at  three  o'clock,  and  took  lodgings 
with  Mrs.  Newlin,  No.  112  Walnut  Street.  Here  I  called 
on  some  of  my  brmer  friends  and  was  kindly  received. 
I  visited  several  public  places  in  the  city,  but  no  one 
stopped  me  to  subscribe  for  my  book." 

The  following  letter  from  Dr.  McKenney  of  Philadel- 
phia is  inserted  here  as  a  capital  specimen  of  a  racy  let 


m  % 


1  > 

i 
1 
1 

il'l 

W  ■ 

i 

iiHil 

1! 

A  Friendly  Letter* 


311 


ler,  and   as  evincing,   moreover,  how  Audubon  was  e» 
dmated  by  his  friends : 

•'  Philadelphia,  September  30,  1833. 
"  My  dear  Governor, 

"  I  do  not  know  when  I  have  done  a  more  acceptable 
service  to  my  feelings,  nor  when  I  have  been  just  in  a  sit- 
uation to  afford  as  much  gratification  to  yours,  as  in  pre- 
senting to  your  notice,  and  private  and  official  friendship, 
the  bearer,  Mr.  Audubon.  It  were  superfluous  to  tell  you 
who  he  is ;  the  whole  world  knows  him  and  respects  him, 
and  no  man  in  it  has  the  heart  to  cherish  or  the  head  to 
appreciate  him,  and  such  a  man,  beyond  the  capacity  of 
yourself. 

"  Mr.  Audubon  makes  no  more  of  tracking  it  in  all 

directions  over  this,  and  I  may  add  other  countries,  than 

a  shot  star  does  in  crossing  the  heavens.     He  goes  after 

winged  things,  but  sometimes  needs  the  aid  of — at  least 

a  few  feathers,  to  assist  him  the  better  to  fly.     He  means 

to  coast  it  again  round  Florida — make  a  track  through 

Arkansas — go  up  the  Missouri — pass  on  to  the  Rocky 

Mountains,  and  thence  to  the  Pacific.     He  will  require 

some  of  your  official  aid.     I  took  an  unmerited  liberty 

with  your  name  and  readiness  of  purpose,  and  told  him 

you  were  the  very  man  ;  and  I  need  not  say  how  happy 

I  shall  be  to  learn  that  you  have  endorsed  my  promise 

and  ratified  it.     God  bless  you. 

"  In  haste, 

"Thos.  L.  McKenney. 

"  To  the  Hon.  Lewis  Cass,  Secretary  of  War, 
Washington  City," 

**  Richmond,  Virginia,  October  {no  date).  Travelling 
through  the  breeding-places  o/ouR  species  is  far  from  being 
s^  interesting  to  me  as  it  is  to  inspect  the  breeding-places 


/    '^ 


r.     I 


,  t 


i 

Hi 


f 


l|i! 

j 

:h  '  : 

1 

:ii  i^  , 

'1  r 

:'] 

H 

i' 

R' 

. 

r*:ifi' 


'{''If 

1..  |i:;ii:iif 


378 


Life  of  Audubon, 


of  the  feathery  tribes  of  our  country.  Yet  as  it  is  the  lot 
of  every  man  like  me  to  know  something  of  both,  to  keep 
up  the  clue  of  my  life,  I  must  say  something  of  the  cities 
through  which  I  pass,  and  of  the  events  which  transpire 
as  I  go  along. 

"  At  Philadelphia  I  of  course  received  no  subscrip- 
tions ;  nay,  I  was  arrested  there  for  debt,*  and  was  on 
the  point  of  being  taken  to  prison,  had  I  not  met  with 
William  Norris,  Esq.,  who  kindly  offered  to  be  my  bail. 
This  event  brings  to  my  mind  so  many  disagreeable 
thoughts  connected  with  my  former  business  transactions, 
in  which  I  was  always  the  single  loser,  that  I  will  only  add 
I  made  all  necessary  arrangements  to  have  it  paid. 

*'  We  left  Philadelphia  for  Baltimore,  where  I  obtained 
four  new  subscribers,  and  received  many  civilities,  and 
especially  from  Mr.  Theodore  Anderson,  the  collector  of 
the  customs.  Ke  is  fond  of  birds,  and  that  made  me 
fond  of  him. 

"  From  Baltimore  we  went  to  Washington,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  obtaining  permission  for  myself  to  accompany  an 
expedition  to  the  Rocky  Mountains  under  the  patronage 
of  the  Government.  Generals  McComb,  Jesup,  Colonel 
Abert,  and  other  influential  persons  received  me  as  usual 
with  marked  kindness.  I  called  on  Governor  Cass,  Sec- 
retary of  War,  and  met  with  a  reception  that  nearly  dis- 
heartened me.  He  said  in  an  indifferent  and  cold 
manner  that  any  request  of  that  sort  must  be  made  in 
writing  to  the  Department ;  and  it  recalled  to  my  mind 
how  poor  Wilson  was  treated  by  the  famous  Jefferson 
when  he  made  a  similar  application  to  that  great  diplo- 
matist. I  had  forgotten  to  take  with  me  the  flattering 
letter  of  introduction  I  had  received  from  Dr.  McKen- 
ney,  and  I  inquired  if  he  would  allow  me  to  send  the  let- 

•  One  of  his  old  partnership  debts. 


¥^ 


:\ 


Meets  IFashington  Irving. 


379 


:  is  ihe  lot 

1,  to  keep 

the  cities 

transpire 

subscrip- 
d  was  on 
met  with 

my  bail, 
lagreeable 
nsactions, 
1  only  add 
aid. 

I  obtained 
lities,  and 
illector  of 

made  me 

)r  the  pur- 
)mpany  an 
patronage 
p.  Colonel 
e  as  usual 
ass,  Sec- 
early  dis- 
and    cold 
made  in 
my  mind 
Jefferson 
eat  diplo- 
flattering 
McKen- 
id  the  let 


ter :  he  said,  '  Certainly,  sir,'  and  I  bowed  and  retired, 
deteimincd  never  to  trouble  him  or  the  War  Department 
again. 

"  I  was  revolving  in  my  mind  how  I  might  get  to  the 
Rocky  Mountains  without  the  assistance  of  the  Secretary 
of  War,  when  I  suddenly  met  with  a  friendly  face,  no  less 
than  Washington  Irving's.  I  mentioned  my  errand  to 
him  and  the  answer  I  had  received,  and  he  thought  I  was 
mistaken.  I  might  have  been  :  but  those  eyes  of  mine 
have  discovered  more  truth  in  men's  eyes  than  their 
mouths  were  willing  to  acknowledge.  However,  I  listen- 
ed to  good  Irving  with  patience,  and  calmness,  and  he 
promised  to  see  the  Secretary  of  War ;  and  he  also  at 
once  accompanied  me  to  Mr.  Taney,  the  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury,  who  received  me  well,  and  at  once  kindly  gave 
me  a  letter,  granting  me  the  privilege  of  the  revenue  cut- 
ters along  the  coast  south  of  Delaware  Bay." 

Mr.  Audubon  returned  to  Baltimore,  took  the  bay 
steamer  for  Norfolk,  went  aboard  the  Potomac,  which  was 
there  ready  to  sail  for  Richmond,  where  he  arrived  at  the 
above  date.  There  he  called  on  Governor  Floyd,  who 
promised  to  try  to  induce  the  State  of  Virginia  to  sub- 
scribe for  his  "  Birds  of  America." 

"  October  i6.  We  left  Richmond  this  morning  in  a  stage 
well  crammed  with  Italian  musicians  and  southern  mer- 
chants, arrived  at  Petersburg  at  a  late  hour,  dined,  and 
were  again  crammed  in  a  ca*"  drawn  by  a  locomotive, 
which  dragged  us  twelve  miles  an  hour,  and  sent  out 
sparks  of  fire  enough  to  keep  us  constantly  busy  in  ex- 
tingiushing  them  on  our  clothes.  At  Blakely  we  were 
again  crammed  into  a  stage,  and  dragged  about  two  miles 
an  hour.  We  crossed  the  Roanoke  River  by  torchlight 
in  a  flat  boat,  passed  through  Halifax,  Raleigh,  Fayette* 
ville,  and  Columbia,  where  we  spent  the  night.  Here  I 
met  Dr.  Gibbs,  at  whose  house  we  passed  the  evening 


^ 


tili  f        i 


*.   Uk^ 


380 


Life  of  jiuduhon. 


and  who  assisted  me  greatly  ;  at  his  house  T  met  Prey 
ident  Thomas  Cooper,  who  assured  me  he  had  seen  a 
rattlesnake  climb  a  five-rail  fence  on  his  land.  I  received 
from  the  treasury  of  the  State  four  hundred  and  twenty 
dollars  on  account  of  its  subscription  for  one  copy  of  the 
*  Birds  of  America  '  " 

Dreading  the  railway,  he  hired  a  carriage  for  forty 
dollars  to  proceed  to  Charleston,  where  he  arrived  in  four 
days,  and  found  his  son  John,  and  was  kindly  received, 
with  his  wife,  by  the  Rev.  John  Bachman. 

Charleston,  S.  C,  October  24,  1833.  Our  time  at 
Charleston  has  been  altogether  pleasant.  The  hospital- 
ity of  our  friends  cannot  be  described,  and  now  that  we 
are  likely  to  be  connected  by  family  ties  I  shall  say  no 
more  on  this  head."  John  and  Victor  Audubon  were 
subsequently  married  to  daughters  of  this  gentleman. 

"  My  time  was  well  employed  ;  I  hunted  for  new  birds 
or  searched  for  more  knowledge  of  old.  I  drew  ;  I  wrote 
many  long  pages.  I  obtained  a  few  new  subscribers,  and 
made  some  collections  on  account  of  my  work. 

"  My  proposed  voyage  to  Florida,  which  was  arranged 
for  the  3d  of  November,  was  abandoned  on  account  of 
the  removal  of  my  good  friend  Captain  Robert  Day  from 
his  former  station  to  New  York,  and  I  did  not  like  to 
launch  on  the  Florida  reefs  in  the  care  of  a  young  officer 
unknown  to  me  ;  and  besides  this,  my  son  Victor  wrote  me 
from  England  desiring  my  return.  So  we  began  to  pre- 
pare gradually  for  a  retrograde  movement  toward  the 
north,  and  on  the  ist  of  March  we  left  our  friends  and 
Charleston  to  return  to  New  York.  We  travelled  througli 
North  and  South  Carolina,  and  reached  Norfolk,  Va.,  on 
the  6th  ;  went  up  the  bay  to  Washington,  thence  to  Bal- 
timore, and  took  lodgings  at  Theodore  Anderson's  in 
Fayette  Street. 

"  At  Baltimore  we  saw  all  our  friends  and  obtained 


WW 


London  Once  More. 


381 


three  nev\  subscribers,  and  lost  one,  a  baiikor."  Here 
Audubon  '•emained  about  a  month  ;  went  to  Philadelphra 
to  collect  money,  which  he  found  rather  difficult ;  and 
passed  on  to  New  York. 

April  16,  1834.  After  remaining  two  weeks  in 
New  York,  Audubon,  his  wife,  and  son  John,  sailed 
on  the  above  date  for  Liverpool,  "  in  the  superb  pack- 
et, the  North  America,  commanded  by  that  excellent 
gentleman,  Mr.  Dixcy  of  Philadelphia.  Our  company 
was  good  ;  our  passage  was  good  ;  the  first  land  we 
saw  was  Holyhead,  and  in  nineteen  days  after  leaving 
America  we  were  put  ashore  in  Old  England."  Audubon 
saw  his  friends  in  Liverpool,  who  had  lost  none  of  their 
former  cordiality  and  kindness  ;  and  after  a  few  days  he 
left  with  his  family,  by  the  way  of  Birmingham,  for  Lon- 
don. 

'■^  May  12.  We  reached  London  to-day  and  found  our 
son  Victor  quite  well,  and  were  all  happy.  My  work 
and  business  were  going  on  prosperously."  After  re- 
maining several  weeks  in  London,  and  seeing  to  mat- 
ters relating  to  his  publication  there,  Audubon  and  his 
son  Victor  went  to  deliver  letters  of  introduction  which 
they  had  brought.  Among  those  letters  was  one  from  one 
of  the  firm  of  the  distinguished  American  banking-house 
Prime,  Ward,  and  King,  to  the  famous  London  bank- 
er, Rothschild.  "  The  letter  was  addressed  to  Baron 
Rothschild,  the  man  who,  notwithstanding  his  original 
poverty,  is  now  so  well  known  through  his  immense  wealth, 
which  he  uses  as  banker,  jobber,  and  lender  of  money. 
We  found  no  difficulty  in  ascertaining  the  place  of  busi- 
ness of  the  great  usurer.  Business  in  London  is  thor- 
oughly matter  of  fact ;  no  external  pomp  indicated  the 
counting-house  of  the  baron  ;  there  was  nothing  to  dis- 
tinguish it  from  those  of  men  of  less  enormous  capital; 
and  we  walked  into  his  private  office  without  any  hin- 


\ 


^1        i 


382 


Life  of  AvdiihoA, 


\i  *     If 


drance,  and  introduced  ourselves  without  any  introducei. 

"  The  Baron  was  not  present,  but  we  were  told  by  a 
good-loking  young  gentleman  that  he  would  come  in  in 
a  few  minutes ;  and  so  he  did.  Soon  a  corpulent  man 
appeared,  hitching  up  his  trousers,  apd  a  face  red  with 
the  exertion  of  walking,  and  without  noticing  any  one 
present,  dropped  his  fat  i>ody  into  a  comfortable  chair, 
as  if  caring  for  no  one  else  in  this  wide  world  but  him- 
self. \Vhile  the  Baron  sat,  we  stood,  with  our  hats  held 
respectfully  in  our  hands.  I  stepped  forward,  and  with 
a  bow  tendered  him  my  credentials.  *  Pray,  sir,'  said  the 
man  of  golden  consequence,  '  is  this  a  letter  of  business, 
or  is  it  a  mere  letter  of  introduction  ?  *  This  I  could  not 
well  answer,  for  I  had  not  read  the  contents  of  it  ,and 
I  was  forced  to  answer  rather  awkwardly  that  I  could 
not  tell.  The  banker  then  opened  the  letter,  read  it  with 
the  manner  of  one  who  was  looking  only  at  the  temporal 
side  of  things,  and  after  reading  it  said,  *  This  is  only  a 
letter  of  introduction,  and  I  expect  from  its  contents  that 
you  are  the  publisher  of  some  book  or  other  and  need 
my  subscription.' 

"  Had  a  man  the  size  of  a  mountain  spoken  to  me 
in  ^^hat  arrogant  style- in  America,  I  should  have  indig- 
nandy  resented  it;  but  where  I  then  was  it  seemed  best 
to  swallow  and  digest  it  as  well  as  I  could.  So  in  reply 
to  the  offensive  arrogance  of  this  banker,  I  said  I  should 
be  honored h J  his  subscription  to  the  'Birds  of  America.' 
'  Sir, '  he  said,  *  I  never  sign  my  name  to  any  subscription 
list,  but  you  may  send  in  your  work  and  I  will  pay  for  a 
copy  of  it.  Gentlemen,  I  am  busy,  I  wish  you  good- 
morning.'  We  were  busy  men,  too,  and  so  bowing  re 
Bpectfully,  we  retired,  pretty  well  satisfied  with  the  small 
slice  of  his  opulence  which  our  labor  was  likely  to  obtain. 

"  A  few  days  afterwards  I  sent  the  first  volume  of  my 
urork  half  bound,  and  all  the  numbers  besides,  then  pub- 


^he  Baron  Rothschild. 


383 


•oducei. 
Id  by  a 
ne  in  in 
jnt  man 
red  with 
any  one 
le  chair, 
but  him- 
lats  held 
and  with 

said  the 
business, 
:ould  not 
of  it  ,and 
t  I  could 
lad  it  with 
;  temporal 
i  is  only  a 
itents  that 

and  need 

Lcn  to  me 
ave  indig- 
2med  best 
)0  in  reply 
i  I  should 
America.' 
ibscription 
pay  for  a 
you  good- 
Dowing  re- 
the  small 
to  obtain, 
ume  of  my 
then  pub- 


lished. On  seeing  them  we  >vere  told  that  he  ordered 
the  bearer  to  take  them  to  his  house,  which  was  done  di- 
rectly. Number  after  number  was  sent  and  delivered  to 
the  Baron,  and  after  eight  or  ten  months  my  son  made 
out  his  account  and  sent  it  by  Mr.  Havell,  my  engraver, 
to  his  banking-house.  The  Baron  looked  at  it  with  amaze  • 
ment,  and  cried  out,  *  What,  a  hundred  pounds  for  birds ! 
Why,  sir,  I  will  give  you  five  pounds,  and  not  a  farthing 
more  !  *  Representations  were  made  to  him  of  the  mag- 
nificence and  expense  of  the  work,  and  how  pleased 
his  Baroness  and  wealthy  children  would  be  to  have  a 
copy ;  but  the  great  financier  was  unrelenting.  The  copy 
of  the  work  was  actually  sent  back  to  Mr.  Havell's  shop, 
and  as  I  found  that  instituting  legal  proceedings  against 
him  would  cost  more  than  it  would  come  to,  I  kept  the 
work,  and  afterwards  sold  it  to  a  man  with  less  money 
but  a  nobler  heart.  What  a  distance  there  is  between 
two  such  men  as  the  Baron  Rothschild  of  London  and 
the  merchant  of  Savannah !  " 

Audubon  remained  in  London  looking  after  his  work 
and  interests  there  until  the  fall  of  1834,  when  he  went 
with  his  family  to  Edinburgh,  where  he  hired  a  house  and 
spent  "i  year  and  a  half. 

There  is  no  journal  describing  the  incidents  of  that 
residence  in  Edinburgh  :  and  it  is  probable  that  Audubon 
did  not  keep  a  daily  record  there  at  all.  The  journal  was 
written  chiefly  with  the  design  to  keep  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren informed  of  all  his  doings  when  he  was  absent  from 
them,  and  they  were  with  him  during  this  period,  and  so 
there  was  no  necessity  for  it ;  and  secondly,  he  was  daily 
so  busily  occupied  with  other  writing  that  he  had  no  time 
to  devote  to  that,  or  even  his  favorite  work  of  drawing 
and  painting.  Some  idea  of  the  amount  of  his  labor  at 
that  period  may  be  inferred  fiom  the  fact,  that  the  intro- 
duction to  volume  second  of  his  "American  Ornitholog 


^\ 


PI  4m 


384 


Life  of  Audubon. 


ical  Biography,"  which  contains  five  hundred  and  eighty- 
five  pages  of  closely-printed  matter,  is  dated  Decembei 
£st,  1834 ;  and  that  in  just  one  year  fi-om  that  date,  the 
third  volume,  containing  six  hundred  and  thirty-eight 
pages,  was  printed  and  published* 

In  the  summer  of  1836  he  removed  his  family  to 
London,  and  having  settled  them  in  Wimpole-street,  Cav- 
endish Square,  he  again  made  his  preparations  to  return 
to  America,  and  make  the  excursion  into  some  of  the 
southern  States,  which  he  had  been  contemplating  for  a 
long  time,  for  the  purpose  of  increasing  the  new  varieties 
of  birds  for  his  great  work. 

yuly  30,  1836,  the  journal  begins,  saying  that  Mr. 
Audubon  left  London  that  day  with  his  son  John  for 
Portsmouth,  where  he  arrived  the  next  day,  and  took  pas- 
sage on  board  the  packet-ship  Gladiator,  for  New  York. 

^^  August  I.  Somewhat  before  the  setting  of  the  sun 
we  went  on  board,  ate  and  drank,  and  laid  ourselves  down 
in  those  floating  catacombs,  vulgarly  called  berths.  When 
the  Gladiator  left  St.  Katharine's  Dock  she  had  on  our 
account  two  hundred  and  sixty  live  birds,  three  dogs  re- 
ceived as  a  present  from  our  noble  friend,  the  Earl  of 
Derby,  and  a  brace  of  tailless  cats  from  our  friend  George 
Thackery,  D.  D.,  provost  of  King's  College.  They  had 
been  on  board  several  days,  and  seemed  not  to  have  re- 
ceived much  care,  and  some  of  the  birds  had  died.  But 
the  dogs  and  some  of  the  birds  were  alive,  and  crossed 
the  Atlantic  safely. 

August  2.  About  five  this  afternoon  the  anchor  was 
apeak,  several  new  persons  were  hoisted  on  deck,  our 
sails  were  spread  to  the  breeze,  and  the  Gladiator 
smo  )thly  glided  on  her  course.  The  passengers  were  a 
fair  average  as  to  agreeability,  and  among  then:  was  Wal- 
lack  the  actor,  who  amused  us  with  some  admirable  puns. 
The  voyaaje  was  prosperous,  and  the  time  passed  pleas* 


iM^Ti: 


A  New  Torh  Packet, 


38s 


antly,  until  we  approached  the  banks  of  Newfoundland, 
when  we  began  to  fear  and  dream  of  icebergs  and  disas- 
ters ;  but  none  came,  and  the  Gladiator  kept  her  course 
steadily  onward,  when,  just  five  weeks  after  leaving  Eng- 
land, in  the  afternoon,  the  highlands  of  Neversink  were  dis- 
covered, about  fifteen  miles  distant.  The  welcome  news  of 
our  approach  to  the  Hook  thrilled  my  heart  with  ecstacy. 

"  The  evening  was  dark,  and  no  pilot  in  sight ;  and 
rockets  were  thrown  up  from  the  ship  to  attract  one. 
This  soon  brought  one  alongside,  and  an  American  tar 
leaped  on  board.  Oh  !  my  Lucy,  thou  knowest  me,  but 
I  cried  like  a  child,  and  when  our  anchor  was  dropped, 
and  rested  on  the  ground  of  America,  thy  poor  husband 
laid  himself  down  on  his  knees,  and  there  thanked  God 
for  His  preservation  of  myself  and  our  dear  son. 

"  All  was  now  bustle  and  mutual  congratulations  ;  our 
commander  was  praised  for  his  skill  by  some,  and  others 
praised  his  whiskey  punch,  which  the  waiters  handed 
about,  and  the  night  was  nearly  spent  in  revelry ;  but 
John  and  myself  retired  at  two  o'clock. 

"It  rained  hard  and  blew  all  night,  but  I  slept  com- 
fortably, and  awoke  the  next  morning  at  four  o'clock  as 
happy  as  any  man  could  be  three  thousand  miles  from  the 
dearest  friend  he  had  on  earth.  As  a  gleam  of  daylight 
appeared,  my  eyes  searched  through  the  hazy  atmosphere 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  land,  and  gradually  Staten  Island 
opened  on  my  view ;  then  the  boat  of  the  custom-house 
officer  appeared,  and  soon  he  boarded  us,  arranged  the 
sailors  and  passengers  on  deck,  and  called  their  names. 
Then  followed  breakfast,  and  soon  another  boat  with  a 
yellow  flag  flying  landed  the  health  officer,  and  there  be- 
ing no  sickness  on  board,  myself  and  John  returned  to 
Staten  Island  in  the  doctor's  boat,  ::::  ^  'vere  taken  by  the 
steamer  Hercules  to  the  city,  where  we  were  welcomed  by 
relatives  and  friends." 

17 


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1 

CHAPITER  XXXIIL 

Hk  America- — Philadelphia — Boston — Friends  avd  Birds— Meeting 
with  Daniel  Webster — Back  to  Nao  York — Social  Mettings^ 
Washington —  Tkvo  Letters  of  Washington  Irving — IntervieVk 
with  the  President — Proposed  Scientific  Expedition. 

EPTEMBER  13.  Audubon  remained  in  New 
York  until  this  date,  obtained  two  subscribers 
and  the  promise  of  two  more,  visited  the  mar- 
kets and  found  a  few  specimens  of  new  birds,  and  left  for 
Philadelphia;  paid  three  dollars  for  his  fare  on  the 
steamer  Swan,  and  fifty  cents  for  his  dinner;  "but,"  the 
journal  adds,  "we  were  too  thick  to  thrive.  I  could  get 
only  a  piece  of  bread  and  butter,  snatched  from  the  table 
at  a  favorable  moment. 

"  I  found  the  country  through  which  we  passed  great- 
ly improved,  dotted  with  new  buildings,  and  the  Delaware 
River  seemed  to  me  handsomer  than  ever.  I  reached 
Philadelphia  at  six  o'clock  p.  m.,  and  found  Dr.  Harlan 
waiting  for  me  on  the  wharf,  ana  he  took  me  in  his  car- 
riage to  his  hospitable  house,  where  I  was  happy  in  the 
presence  of  his  amiable  wife  and  interesting  son. 

"  September  24.  Went  to  the  market  with  Dr.  Harlan 
at  five  o'clock  this  morning ;  certainly  this  market  is  the 
finest  one  in  America.  The  flesh,  fish,  fruit  and  vege- 
tables, and  fowls,  are  abundant,  and  about  fifty  per  cent 
less  than  in  New  York ;  where,  in  fact,  much  of  the  pro- 
duce of  Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey  is  taken  now-a-days 
for  sale — even  game !  I  bought  two  soras  (cedar  birds) 
for  forty  cents,  that  in  New  York  would  have   brought 


Flying  Visits. 


387 


eighty  cents.  After  breakfast  went  to  the  Academy  of 
Natural  Sciences,  met  Dr.  Pickering,  and  had  a  great 
treat  in  looking  over  and  handling  the  rare  collection 
made  by  Nuttall  and  Townsend  in  their  excursion  on  and 
over  the  Rocky  Mountains.  It  belongs  to  the  Academy, 
which  assisted  the  travellers  with  funds  to  prosecute  their 
journey ;  it  contains  about  forty  new  species  of  birds,  and 
its  value  cannot  be  described." 

Audubon  spent  only  a  day  or  two  in  Philadelphia,  saw 
his  old  friends  there,  was  present  at  one  of  the  mee^"  'qjs 
of  the  Academy,  obtained  a  few  new  birds,  and  return  .'d 
to  New  York.  Mr.  Edward  Karris,  his  old  friend,  called 
to  see  him ;  and  when  he  was  told  of  the  new  species  of 
birds  obtained  bv  Townsend,  "offered  to  give  me  five 
hundred  dollars  towards  purchasing  them.  Is  not  this  a 
noble  generosity  to  show  for  the  love  of  science  ? '" 

"  Boston,  September  20, 1836.  I  came  here  from  New 
York,  vid  the  steamer  Massachusetts  and  the  Providence 
Railroad,  for  seven  dollars,  which  included  supper  and 
tjreakfast  There  were  three  hundred  passengers,  and 
among  them  several  persons  known  to  me.  A  thick  fog 
compelled  the  steamer  to  anchor  at  midnight )  in  tlie 
morning  our  sail  up  the  bay  to  Providence  was  like  a 
fairy  dream.  Nature  looked  so  beautiful  and  grand,  and 
so  congenial  to  my  feelings,  that  I  wanted  nothing  but 
thy  dear  self  here,  Lucy,  to  complete  my  happiness.  The 
locomotive  pulled  us  from  Providence  to  Boston  at  the 
rate  of  fifteen  miles  an  hour ;  we  arrived  at  four  p.  m.  ; 
a  cart  took  my  trunk,  and  sitting  myself  by  the  side  of 
the  owner,  we  drove  to  the  house  of  my  friend  Dr.  George 
C.  Shattuck.  The  family  soon  gathered  for  tea,  and  I 
was  now  happy,  and  after  talking  for  a  while  I  retired  to 
rest  in  the  same  room  and  bed  where  John  and  I  slept 
after  our  return  from  Labrador." 

Audubon  spent  several  days  in  Boston,  visiting  the 

^ '  E  i  »tOFERTY  ^  < 

eOAiiBOBOIIQfiAiiIGS 

n-^STITUTE. 


\  1 

'!  4 

i  ■     i 

J,.. 


388 


Life  of  Audubon, 


1 1 


public  institutions  and  his  friends,  among  whom  he  men- 
tions Mr.  Everett,  Dr.   Bowditch,   Dr.  Gould,   snd  Mr. 

David,  "  where  I  found  Maria  D ,  now  Mrs.  Motley, 

as  handsome  as  ever,  and  her  husband  not  far  short  oi 
seven  feet  high." 

"  September  20.  Went  to  the  market  and  bought  a 
fine  pigeon  hawk  which  is  now  found  in  Massachusetts, 
for  two  cents.  Visited  Roxbury  with  Thomas  Brewer,  a 
young  man  of  much  ornithological  taste,  to  see  his  col- 
lection of  skins  and  eggs :  found  his  mother  and  family 
very  kind  and  obliging,  and  received  from  him  seven 
eggs  of  such  species  as  I  have  not.  Returned  and  visited 
David  Eckley,  the  great  salmon  fisher  :  promised  to 
breakfast  with  him  to-morrow. 

"  September  21.  Went  to  market  and  bought  a  female 
blue  teal  for  ten  cents.  Called  on  Dr.  Storer,  and 
heard  that  our  learned  friend  Thomas  Nuttail  had  just 
returned  from  California.  I  sent  Mr.  Brewer  after  him, 
and  waited  with  impatience  for  a  sight  of  the  great  travel- 
ler, whom  we  admired  so  much  when  we  were  in  this* 
line  city.  In  he  came,  Lucy,  the  very  same  Thomas  Nut- 
tall,  and  in  a  few  minutes  we  discussed  a  considerable 
portion  of  his  tra^^els,  adventures,  and  happy  return  to 
this  land  of  happiness.  He  promised  to  obtain  me  dupli- 
cates of  all  the  species  he  had  brought  for  the  Academy 
at  Philadelphia,  and  to  breakfast  with  us  to-morrow,  and 
we  parted  as  we  have  before,  friends,  bent  on  the  promo- 
tion of  the  science  we  study. 

"  September  22.  This  has  been  a  day  of  days  with 
me ;  Nuttail  breakfasted  with  us,  and  related  much  of  his 
journey  on  the  Pacific,  and  presented  me  with  five  new 
species  of  birds  obtained  by  himself,  and  which  are  named 
after  him.  One  of  Dr.  Shattuck's  students  drove  me  in 
the  doctor's  gig  to  call  on  Governor  Everett,  who  received 
me  as  kindly  as  ever  ^  and  then  to  the  house  of  Presi- 


FT 
t    '  il 


Flying  Visits, 


3H 


meih 

d  Mr. 
[otley, 
ort  ol 

ight  a 
msetts, 
ewer,  a 
lis  col- 
family 
.  seven    , 
[  visited 
ised  to 

I  female 
er,  and 
lad  just 
;er  him, 
it  travel- 
5  in  this- 
nas  Nut- 
liderable 
eturn  to 
ne  dupli- 
\cademy 
row,  and 
e  promo- 
ays  with 
ich  of  his 
five  new 
re  named 
ve  me  in 
received 
f   Presv 


dent  Tinnay  of Haivard  University,  where  I  saw  his  fam 
ily  j  and  then  to  Judge  Story's.  Then  crossing  the  coun- 
try, we  drove  to  Col.  J.  H.  Perkins',  and  on  the  way  I 
Dought  a  fine  male  white-headed  eagle  for  five  dollars. 
On  my  return  I  learned  that  at  a  meeting  of  the  Nationa' 
History  Society  yesterday  a  resolution  was  passed  to 
subscribe  for  my  work. 

"  Dr.  Bowditch  advised  me  to  go  to  Salem,  and  with 
his  usual  anxiety  to  promote  the  welfare  of  every  one, 
gave  me  letters  to  Messrs.  Peabody  and  Cleveland  of  that 
place,  requesting  them  to  interest  themselves  to  get  the 
Athenaeum  to  subscribe  for  my  work. 

"  Salemj  Mass.^  September  23,  1836.  Rose  early  this 
morning,  and  made  preparations  to  go  to  Salem ;  and  at 
seven  o'clock  I  was  in  the  stage,  rolling  out  of  Boston  to- 
wards this  beautiful  and  quiet  village.  The  road  might 
be  called  semi-aquatic,  as  it  passes  over  bridges  and  em- 
bankments through  salt  marshes  of  great  extent,  bounded 
by  wooded  hills  towards  the  sea,  and  distant  ones  inland. 
We  stopped  a  few  moments  at  Shoemaker  Town  (Lynn), 
where  I  paid  one  dollar  for  my  fare,  and  reached  this 
place  afterwards  at  half-past  ten. 

"  I  was  put  down  at  the  Lafayette  Hotel,  and  soon 
made  my  way  to  Mr.  Cleveland's  office  ;  he  received  me 
kindly,  and  invited  me  to  dine  with  him  at  one  o'clock. 
I  took  some  back  numbers  of  my  *  Birds  of  America '  to 
Miss  Burley,  and  found  her  as  good,  amiable,  and  gener- 
ous as  ever  ;  and  she  at  once  interested  herself  to  make 
the  object  of  my  visit  successful.  Called  on  Dr.  Pierson, 
to  whom  I  had  a  letter,  and  met  a  most  congenial  spirit, 
a  man  of  talents  and  agreeable  manners.  The  Doctor 
went  with  me  to  see  several  persons  likely  to  be  interested 
in  my  work  ;  and  I  then  called  alone  on  a  Miss  Sitsby,  a 
beautiful  *  blue,'  seven  or  eight  seasons  beyond  her  teens, 
and  very  wealthy.     Blues  do  not  knit  socks,  or  put  on 


i  : 


1^    '^ 


390 


i^tfe  of  Audubon, 


fVI-.   -f 


buttons  when  needed ;  they  may  do  for  the  parlor,  but 
not  for  the  kitchen.  Although  she  has  the  eyes  of  a  ga- 
zelle, and  capital  teeth,  I  soon  discovered  that  she  would 
be  no  help  to  me :  when  I  mentioned  subscription,  it 
seemed  to  fall  on  her  ears,  not  as  the  cadence  of  the  wood 
thrush  or  mocking-bird  does  in  mine,  but  as  a  shower- 
bath  in  cold  January.  Ornithology  seemed  to  be  a  thing 
for  which  she  had  no  taste  ;  she  said,  however,  '  I  will 
suggest  your  wish  to  my  father,  sir,  and  give  you  an  an- 
swer to-morrow  morning.'  She  showed  me  some  valuable 
pictures,  especially  one  by  that  king  of  Spanish  painters, 
Murillo,  representing  himself,  and  gun,  and  dog;  the 
Spanish  dress  and  tout  ensemble  brought  to  my  mind  my 
imaginations  respecting  Gil  Bias.  At  last  I  bowed,  she 
curtsied,  and  so  the  interview  ended. 

"  September  23.  '  Chemin  faisant'  I  met  the  curator 
of  the  Natural  History  Society  of  Salem,  and  gladly  ac- 
cepted his  invitation  to  examine  the  young  collection  of 
that  new-born  institution,  and  there  I  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  find  one  t%g  of  the  American  bittern. 

"  It  was  now  nearly  one  o'clock,  and  going  to  the 
office  of  Mr.  Cleveland,  I  found  him  waiting  to  conduct 
me  to  his  house.  We  soon  entered  it  and  his  dining- 
room,  where  I  saw  three  lovely  daughters  and  a  manly- 
looking  youth,  their  brother.  The  dinner  was  excellent, 
and  served  simply ;  but  as  our  future  bread  and  buttei 
depend  on  my  exertions,  I  excused  myself  as  soon  as  con- 
venient, and  went  to  Dr.  Pierson,  who  accompanied  me 
to  call  on  some  gentlemen  who  would  be  likely  to  take  an 
interest  in  my  work." 

Audubon  returned  on  September  24th  to  Boston,  and 
remained  there  one  week,  visiting  his  friends  and  looking 
for  subscribers  to  his  Birds. 

"  September  27.  The  citizens  are  all  excitement ;  guns 
are  firing,  flags  flying,  and  troops  parading,  and  John 


!■ 


Interview  with  Daniel  Webster, 


39^ 


Quincy  Adams  is  delivering  a  eulogy  on  the  late  Pres' 
ident  Madison.     The  mayor  of  Boston  did  me  the  hon 
or  to  invite  me  to  join  in  the  procession,  but  I  am  no 
politician,  and  declined. 

"  I  dined  with  Dr.  B.  C.  Green,  President  of  the  I^at- 
ural  History  Society,  with  President  Quincy,  Isaac  P. 
Davis,  and  Mr.  Nuttall.  In  the  evening  Dr.  Shattuclc 
finished  the  subscription  list  of  th-^  society,  by  presenting 
me  to  his  lady,  who  subscribeu  for  one-tenth,  and  the  Dr. 
then  put  down  his  son  George's  name  for  one-twentieth, 
making  in  his  own  family  one-fourth  of  the  whole,  or  two 
hundred  and  twenty  dollars,  for  which  he  gave  me  his 
cheque.  Without  the  assistance  of  this  generous  man,  it 
is  more  than  probable  that  the  society  never  would  have 
had  a  copy  of  the  '  Birds  of  America.' 

"  September  29.  Mr.  Isaac  P.  Davis  called  to  invite  me 
to  spend  the  evening  at  his  house,  and  to  meet  Daniel 
Webster.  I  met  him  at  the  Historical  Society,  where  I 
saw  the  last  epaulets  worn  by  our  glorious  Washington, 
many  of  his  MS.  letters,  and  the  coat  Benjamin  Franklin 
wore  at  the  French  and  English  courts. 

"  Mr.  Davis  has  some  fine  pictures,  which  I  enjoyed 
looking  at,  and  after  a  while  Daniel  Webster  came,  and 
we  welcomed  each  other  as  friends  indeed,  and  after  the 
usual  compliments  en  such  occasions  we  had  much  con- 
versation respecting  my  publication.  He  told  me  he 
thought  it  likely  a  copyright  of  our  great  work  might  be 
secured  to  you  and  our  children.  We  took  tea,  talked  of 
ornithology  and  ornithologists  ;  he  promised  to  send  me 
some  specimens  of  birds,  and  finished  by  subscribing  to 
my  work.  I  feel  proud,  Lucy,  to  have  that  great  man's 
name  on  our  list,  and  pray  God  to  grant  him  a  long  life 
and  a  happy  one.  Mr.  Webster  gave  me  the  following 
note : — 

"  *  I  take  this  mode  of  commending  Mr.  Audubon  to 


v}    f,* 


pi.-:  ij 


i  '■■■,  ':■■" 

i 


39* 


Life  of  Audubon, 


any  friends  of  mine  he  may  meet  in  his  journey  to  the 
west.  I' have  not  only  great  respect  for  Mr.  Audubon's 
scientific  pursuits,  but  entertain  for  him  personally  much 
esteem  and  hearty  good  wishes. 

•  "'Daniel  Webster."* 


After  obtaining  a  few  more  subscribers,  and  deliver- 
ing some  numbers  of  his  birds  to  former  ones,  Audubon 
bid  adieu  to  his  friends  in  Boston,  and  returned  to  NeAl 
York. 

"  October  lo.  Had  a  pleasant  call  from  Washington 
Irving,  and  promise  of  valuable  letters  to  Van  Buren  and 
others  in  Washington.  After  dinner  went  to  Mr.  Coop- 
er's, the  naturalist,  who  at  first  with  some  reluctance 
showed  me  his  birds.  We  talked  of  ornithology,  and  he 
gave  me  five  pairs  of  sylvia,  and  promised  to  see  me 
to-morrow. 

''''October  ii.  At  nine  o'clock  Mr.  Cooper  came  to 
see  me,  and  examined  the  third  volume  of  our  work. 
He  remained  two  hours,  conversing  on  our  favorite  study, 
and  I  was  pleased  to  find  him  more  generously  inclined 
to  forward  my  views  after  he  had  seen  the  new  species 
given  me  by  Nuttall.  I  went  to  his  house  with  him,  and 
he  gave  me  several  rare  and  valuable  specimens,  and 
promised  me  a  list  of  the  birds  found  by  himself  and 
Ward  in  the  State  of  New  York. 

"  October  13.  Called  on  Inman  the  painter;  saw  the 
sketch  intended  for  thee,  but  found  it  not  at  all  like  thy 
dear  self  He  says  he  makes  twelve  thousand  dollars  a 
year  by  his  work.  Dined  at  Samuel  Swartwout's,  a  grand 
dinner,  with  Mr.  Fox,  the  British  minister,  Mr.  Buckhead, 
secretary  of  legation,  Thomas  Moore,  the  poet.  Judge 
Parish,  and  sundry  others.  Mrs.  S.  and  her  daughter 
were  present ;  all  went  off  in  good  style,  and  1  greatly 
enjoyed  myself.     Several  of  the  party  invited  me  to  visit 


Dinner  with  S.  Swartwout. 


393 


them  at  their  residences,  and  General  Stewart  of  Baltimore 
invited  me  to  n  ake  his  house  njy  home  when  I  visited 
there. 

"  October  15.  We  have  packed  our  trunks  and  sent 
them  on  board  the  steamer,  and  leave  this  evening  for 
Philadelphia.  The  weather  has  been  perfectly  serene 
and  beautiful,  and  the  Bay  of  New  York  never  looked 
more  magnificent  and  grand  to  me.  We  soon  glided 
across  its  smooth  surface  and  entered  the  narrow  and 
sinuous  Raritan ;  and  as  I  saw  flocks  of  ducks  winging 
their  way  southward,  I  felt  happy  in  the  thought  that  I 
should  ere  long  follow  them  to  their  winter  abode.  We 
soon  reached  the  railroad,  and  crossed  to  the  Delaware, 
and  before  six  o'clock  reached  the  house  of  my  gooa 
friend  Dr.  Harlan." 

Here  Audubon  saw  many  of  his  old  friends,  visited 
t^''  public  works  and  institutions,  and  obtained  a  few 
new  species  of  birds.  After  speaking  of  the  great  changes 
in  that  city,  the  journal  says  :  "  Passed  poor  Alexander 
Wilson's  school-house,  and  heaved  a  sigh.  Alas,  poor 
Wilson  !  would  that  I  could  once  more  speak  to  thee,  and 
listen  to  thy  voice.  When  I  was  a  youth,  the  woods  stood 
unmolested  here,  looking  wild  and  fresh  as  if  just  from 
the  Creator's  hands  ;  but  now  hundreds  of  streets  cross 
them,  and  thousands  of  houses  and  millions  of  diverse 
improvements  occupy  their  places:  Barton's  Garden  is 
the  only  place  which  is  unchanged.  I  walked  in  the 
same  silent  mood  I  enjoyed  on  the  same  spot  when 
first  I  visited  the  present  owner  of  it,  the  descendant  of 
William  Barton,  the  generous  friend  of  Wilson." 

On  November  8th,  Audubon  arrived  in  Washington. 
Among  many  other  letters  of  introduction  given  to  peo- 
ple in  Washington,  and  transcribed  carefully  in  the 
journal,  are  the  two  following  from  Washington  Irving. 


I  * 


■ill 


1^* 


i.  f\ 

i: 


%"'■ 


394 


Life  of  Audubon. 


Tarrytown,  October  19,  1836. 
My  dear  Sir, 

This  letter  will  be  handed  to  you  by  our  distin 
guished  naturalist,  Mr.  J.  J.  Audubon.  To  one  so  pure- 
ly devoted  as  yourself  to  anything  liberal  and  enlightened, 
I  know  I  need  say  nothing  in  recommendation  of  Audu* 
bon  and  his  works ;  he  himself  will  best  inform  you  ol 
his  views  in  visiting  Washington,  and  I  am  sure  you  will 
do  anything  in  your  power  to  promote  them. 

He  has  heretofore  received  facilities  on  the  part  of 
the  government,  in  prosecuting  his  researches  along  our 
coast,  by  giving  him  conveyance  in  oar  revenue  cutters 
and  other  publfc  vessels.  I  trust  similar  civilities  will 
be  extended  to  him,  and  that  he  will  receive  all  aid  and 
countenance  in  his  excursions  by  land. 

The  splendid  works  of  Mr.  Audubon,  on  the  sale  of  which 
he  depends  for  the  remuneration  of  a  life  of  labor,  and  for 
provision  for  his  family,  necessarily,  from  the  magnificence 
of  its  execution,  is  put  beyond  the  means  of  most  individ- 
uals. It  must  depend  therefore  on  public  institutions  for 
its  chief  sale.  As  it  is  a  national  work,  and  higlily  cred- 
itable to  the  nation,  it  appears  to  me  that  it  is  particular- 
ly deserving  of  national  patronage.  Why  cannot  the  de- 
partments of  Washington  furnish  themselves  with  copies, 
to  be  deposited  in  their  libraries  or  archives  ?  Think  of 
these  suggestions,  and,  if  you  approve  of  them,  act  accord- 
ingly. 

With  the  highest  esteem  and  regard, 

I  am,  dear  sir.  Yours  very  truly, 

Washington  Irving. 
Benjamin  F.  Butler,  Esq., 
Attorney-General  of  the  United  States,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Tarrvtown,  October^  19,  1836. 

My  dear  Sir, 

I  take  pleasure  m  introducing  to  you  our  Jistin- 
fished  and  most  meritorious  countryman,  J.  J.  Audubon, 


Letter  (l  M,  Van  Buren, 


395 


whose  splendid  work  on  American  ornithology  must  ol 
course  be  well  known  to  you.  That  work,  while  it  re- 
flects such  great  credit  on  our  country,  and  contributes  so 
largely  to  the  advancement  of  one  of  the  most  delightful 
departments  of  science,  is  likely,  from  the  extreme  ex- 
pense attendant  upon  it,  to  repay  but  poorly  the  indefati 
gable  labor  of  a  lifetime.  The  high  price  necessarily  put 
on  the  copies  of  Mr.  Audubon's  magnificent  work  places 
it  beyond  the  means  of  the  generality  of  private  individ- 
uals. It  is  entitled  therefore  to  the  especial  countenance 
of  our  libraries  and  various  other  public  institutions.  It 
appears  to  me,  that  the  different  departments  in  Washing- 
ton ou<;ht  each  to  have  a  copy  deposited  in  their  libraries 
or  archives.  Should  )ou  be  of  the  same  opinion  you 
might  be  of  great  advantage  in  promoting  such  a    meas- 


»> 


ure. 

Reference  is  then  made  to  the  assistance  rendered  to 
Audubon  by  the  revenue  cutters  and  public  vessels,  and 
the  letter  continues  : — 

"  I  trust  similar  facilities  will  still  be  extended  to  him  ; 
in  fact,  as  his  undettUjIings  are  of  a  decidedly  national 
character,  and  conducive  of  great  national  benefit,  the 
most  liberal  encouragement  in  every  respect  ought  to  be 
shown  to  him  on  the  part  of  our  government. 

I  am,  my  dear  Sir, 

Your  attached  Friend, 

Washington  Irving.** 

**Thi  Honorable  Martin  Yan  Bdren." 

"  November  8.  Called  on  Colonel  Abert,  who  received 
me  with  his  wonted  civility,  promised  to  assist  me  in  all 
my  desires,  and  walked  with  me  to  the  President's,  to  pre- 
sent my  letters.  There  we  found  Colonel  Donaldson  and 
Mr.  Earle,  both  nephews,  I  believe,  of  General  Jackson, 
and  iij  a  moment  I  was  in  the  presence  of  this  famed 


SI 


1 1 ''I 

1^1 


1 


396 


Life  of  Audubon, 


man,  and  had  shaken  his  hand.  He  read  Mr.  Swartwout*!! 
letter  twice,  with  apparent  care,  and  having  finished,  said, 
*  Mr.  Audubon,  I  will  do  all  in  my  power  to  serve  you, 
but  the  Seminole  war  will,  I  fear,  prevent  you  from  hav 
ing  a  cutter ;  however,  as  we  shall  have  a  committee  at 
twelve  o'clock,  we  will  consider  this,  and  give  you  an  an- 
swer to-morrow.'  The  general  looked  well,  he  was  smok- 
ing his  pipe,  and  gave  his  letters  to  Colonel  Donaldson, 
who  read  them  attentively,  and  as  I  left  the  room  he  fol- 
lowed us,  and  we  talked  to  him  respecting  the  subscrip- 
tion of  the  different  departments.  I  like  this  man  and 
his  manners ;  and  I  gave  him  the  letters  of  the  Duke  of 
Sussex  and  the  Governor  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company 
to  read,  and  went  to  see  Colonel  Earle,  who  is  engaged 
in  painting  General  Jackson's  portrait. 

"  Colonel  Abert  then  took  me  to  Mr.  Woodbury,  Sec- 
retary of  the  Treasury,  who  received  me  very  politely, 
and  after  reading  my  letters  to  him,  promised  me  the  use 
of  the  cutter.  The  subscription  was  also  broached  to 
him,  but  nothing  decisive  was  said ;  and  so  we  passed 
over  to  Mr.  Butler's  office,  who  is  a-MJlPg  man.  He  read 
Washington  Irving's  letter,  laid  it  down,  and  began  a  long 
talk  about  his  talents,  and  after  a  while  came  round  to  my 
business ;  saying,  that  the  government  allows  so  little 
money  to  the  departments,  that  he  did  not  think  it  proba- 
ble that  their  subscription  could  be  obtained  without  a 
law  to  that  effect  from  Congress.  This  opinion  was  any- 
thing but  gratifying ;  but  he  made  many  courteous  prom- 
ises to  brmg  the  matter  before  the  next  Congress,  and  I 
bid  him  adieu,  hoping  for  the  best. 

"Called  on  Mr.  Jc;hn  S.  Mechan,  librarian  to  Con- 


gress, 


and  found  him  amonar  his  books.     After  some 


agreeable  conversation  respecting  his  work  and  my  own, 
he  asked  me  to  dine  with  him  to-day,  and  to-morrow  to 
visit  the  curious  chimney-sweep  possessing  curious  knowl- 


Celebrities  in  Washington, 


397 


edge  of  the  Sora  Rail,  a  water  bird  vulgarly  supposed  to 
bury  itself  in  the  mud  and  lie  torpid  all  winter.  Accom- 
panied by  John,  I  took  tea  at  Colonel  Abert's,  and  then 
walked  to  Mr.  Woodbury's,  to  spend  the  evening.  There 
the  Colonel  handed  me  an  order  for  the  use  of  the  cutter, 
and  informed  me  that  the  Treasury  Department  ha  1  sub- 
scribed for  one  copy  of  our  work.  Mr.  Woodbury  also 
offered  us  a  passage  to  Charleston  in  the  cutter,  Camp- 
bell, about  to  sail  for  that  station.  The  vessel  is  only 
fifty-five  tons ;  and  although  Columbus  crossed  the  Atlan- 
tic in  search  of  a  new  world  in  a  barque  yet  more  frail, 
and  although  thy  husband  would  go  to  the  world's  end 
after  new  birds  on  land,  he  would  not  like  to  go  from  Bal- 
timore on  such  a  vessel  carrying  three  guns  and  twenty- 
one  men.  I  am  now  hoping  soon  to  see  again  the  breed- 
ing grounds  of  the  wood  ibis,  and  the  roseate  spoonbill. 
^^  November  ^.  To-day  Colonel  Abert  called  with  me 
on  Secretary  Dickinson,  of  the  navy.  He  received  us 
firankly,  talked  of  the  great  naval  and  scientific  expedition 
round  the  world  now  proposed  to  be  fitted  out  by  the 
government.  To  my  surprise  and  delight  his  views  co- 
incided exactly  with  mine.  He  said  he  was  opposed  to 
fi-igates  and  large  ships,  and  to  great  numbers  of  extra 
sailors  on  such  an  enterprise,  when  only  peaceful  objects 
were  intended.  We  differed,  however,  respecting  the 
number  of  the  scientific  corps  :*  he  was  for  a  few,  and  I 
for  duplicates  at  least;  because  in  case  of  death  or  illness, 
some  of  the  departments  of  science  would  suffer  if  only 
one  person  were  sent.  He  asked  me  respecting  the  fit- 
ness of  certain  persons  whose  names  had  been  mentioned 
for  the  voyage.  But  I  gave  evasive  answers,  not  wishing 
to  speak  of  individuals  who  are  both  unfit  and  inimical  to 
me  to  this  very  day.  Most  sincerely  do  I  hope  that  this, 
our  first  great  national  expedition,  may  succeed,  not  only 
for  the  sake  of  science,  but  also  for  the  honor  of  our  be- 


) 


.  t 


398 


Life  of  Auduhon. 


\: 


I 


loved  country.  I  strongly  recommended  George  Lehman, 
my  former  assistant,  as  he  is  in  every  respect  one  of  the 
best  general  draftsmen  I  know.  I  also  recommended  the 
son  of  Dr.  McMurtrie  (how  strange,  you  will  say),  and 
young  Reynolds,  of  Boston,  as  an  entomologist. 

"  The  secretary  paid  me  some  compliments,  and  told 
me  the  moment  the  expedition  had  been  mentioned  he 
had  thought  of  me,  and  Nuttall,  and  Pickering — a  glorious 
trio !  I  wish  to  God  that  I  were  young  once  more ;  how 
deUghted  I  would  be  to  go  in  such  company,  learned  men 
and  dear  friends.  He  also  took  us  to  his  house,  to  see 
the  work  published  by  the  French  government,  of  the 
voyages  of  L'Athalie,  and  presented  by  that  government 
to  our  own.  It  is  a  magnificent  production,  quite  French, 
and  quite  perfect.  I  next  took  John  to  the  White  House, 
which  is  the  vulgar  name  for  the  President's  residence. 
Mr.  Earle  introduced  us,  and  John  saw  for  the  first  time 
that  extraordinary  man,  General  Andrew  Jackson.  He 
was  very  kind,  and  as  soon  as  he  heard  that  we  intended 
departing  to-morrow  evening  for  Charleston,  invited  us  to 
dine  with  him  enfamille.  At  the  named  hour  we  went  to 
the  White  House,  and  were  taken  into  a  room,  where  the 
President  soon  joined  us.  I  sat  close  to  him  ;  we  spoke 
of  olden  times,  and  touched  slightly  on  politics,  and  I 
found  him  very  averse  to  the  cause  of  the  Texans.  We 
talked  also  of  the  great  naval  expedition,  European  af- 
fairs, &c.  Dinner  being  announced,  we  went  to  the  table 
with  his  two  nephews,  Colonel  Donaldson  being  in  the 
truest  sense  of  the  word  a  gentleman.  The  dinner  was 
what  might  be  called  plain  and  substantial  in  England  \ 
I  dined  from  a  fine  young  turkey,  shot  within  twenty  miles 
of  Washington.  The  general  drank  no  wine,  but  his 
health  was  drunk  by  us  more  than  once ;  and  he  ate  very 
moderately,  his  last  dish  consisting  of  bread  and  milk. 
As  soon  as  dinner  was  over  we  returned  to  the  first  room 


Dines  with  General  Jackson,  joo 

where  was  a  picture,  ay,  a  picture  of  our  great  Washing- 
ton,  painted  by  Stuart,  when  in  the  prime  of  his  age  and 
art.  This  picture,  Lucy,  was  found  during  the  war  with 
England  by  Mrs.  Madison,  who  had  it  cut  out  of  the 
frame,  rolled  up,  and  removed  to  the  country,  as  Mr. 
Earle  told  me.  It  is  the  only  picture  in  the  whole  house 
—so  much  for  precious  republican  economy.  Coffee  was 
handed,  and  soon  after  John  and  I  left,  bidding  adieu  to 
a  man  who  has  done  much  good  and  much  evil  to  our 
country." 


*^;t. 


Q.^^}V^y>o 


^^  I 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

Excursion  South — Starts  in  Cutter  for  Galveston  Bay^  Texas — Bara^ 

taria  Bay — Great  Hunting  Excursion  with  a  Squatter — Notes  in 

Texas — Wretched  Population — Buffalo  Bayou-  -Texan  Capitol 

and  Houses  of  Congress — Reaches  New  Orleans — Charlestonr-^In 

England  Again — Literary  Labors — Back  to  America. 

HARLESTONy  S.  C,  November  17,  1836.  We 
arrived  here  last  evening,  after  an  irksome  and  fa- 
tiguing journey,  and  seemingly  very  slowly  per- 
formed, in  my  anxiety  to  reach  a  resting  place,  where 
friendship  and  love  would  combine  to  render  our  time 
happy,  and  the  prosecution  of  our  labor  pleasant.  We  were 
hungry,  thirsty,  and  dusty  as  ever  two  men  could  be ;  but 
we  found  our  dear  friends  all  well,  tears  of  joy  ran  from 
their  eyes,  and  we  embraced  the  whole  of  them  as  if  born 
from  one  mother.  John  Bachman  was  absent  from  home, 
but  returned  at  nine  from  his  presidential  chair  at  the 
Philosophical  Society." 

Audubon  passed  the  winter  of  1836  and  1837  in 
Charleston,  with  his  friend  Dr.  Bachman,  making  occa- 
sional excursions  into  the  country,  to  the  neighboring  sea 
islands,  and  also  to  Savannah  and  Florida.  But  the 
Seminole  war  then  raging,  he  was  unable  to  penetrate 
much  into  the  interior.  This  winter  he  began  the  studies 
in  Natural  History,  which  led  to  the  publication  of  the 
Quadrupeds  of  North  America,  in  connection  with  Dr. 
Bachman.  Early  in  the  spring,  he  appears  to  have  left 
Charleston,  in  the  revenue  cutter  Campbell,  Captain 
Coste,  for  explorations  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  The  jour- 
nals are  lost  which  describe  the  interval  between  the  17th 
of  January  and  the  ist  of  April,  under  which  latter  date 


i  I 


Barataria  Bay. 


401 


we  read  that  Audubon,  his  son  John,  and  Mr.  Edward 
Harris,  came  down  from  New  Orleans,  in  the  cutter,  to 
the  S.  W.  pass,  provisioned  for  two  months,  and  bound 
westwardly  from  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  to  Galves- 
ton Bay,  in  Texas,  with  the  intention  of  exploring  the 
harbors,  keys,  and  bayous  along  the  coast,  and  to  examine 
the  habits  of  the  birds  of  this  region,  and  to  search  for 
new  species,  to  furnish  materials  for  the  completion  of  the 
fourth  volume  of  the  "  Birds  of  America." 

"  ApH/  3.  We  were  joined  this  day  by  Captain  W.  R 
G.  Taylor,  of  the  Revenue  service,  with  the  schooner 
Crusader,  twelve  tons  burden,  two  guns,  and  four  men 
completely  equipped  for  our  expedition,  with  a  supply  of 
seines,  cast-nets,  and  other  fishing-tackle." 

The  same  day  they  entered  Barataria  Bay,  and  began 
operations,  and  found  a  variety  of  birds  which  are  de- 
scribed in  the  journal.  The  next  day  the  party  landed, 
and  made  excursions  in  different  directions,  in  pursuit  of 
birds  and  eggs.  Among  the  spoils  of  game  taken  this 
day,  were  two  white  pelicans,  of  which  there  was  an 
abundance. 

The  next  three  weeks  were  spent  in  visiting  the 
islands  and  bayous,  and  penetrating  some  of  the  rivers 
which  pour  into  the  latter  that  occur  along  the  coast  be- 
tween the  Mississippi  river  and  Galveston.  The  paities 
landed  at  various  points,  and  found  many  new  species  of 
birds,  and  other  interesting  objects  of  Natural  History. 
In  the  course  of  one  of  these  rambles,  Audubon  made 
the  acquaintance  of  a  squatter,  a  great  hunter,  and  with 
whom  he  went  on  an  excursion,  which  is  thus  de- 
scribed : — 

"  I  entered  the  squatter's  cabin,  and  immediately 
opened  a  conversation  with  him  respecting  the  situation 
of  the  swamp  and  its  natural  productions.  He  told  me 
he  thought  it  the  very  place  I  ought  to  visfc,  spoke  of  the 


^1 


J-. 


402 


Life  of  Audubon, 


\\ 


ill  II  t 


game  which  it  contained,  and  pointed  to  some  bear  ai^d 
deer  skins,  adding,  that  the  individuals  to  which  they  had 
belonged  formed  but  a  small  portion  of  the  number  of 
those  animals  which  he  had  shot  within  it.  My  heart 
swelled  with  delight ;  and  on  asking  if  he  would  accom^ 
pany  me  through  the  great  swamp,  and  allow  me  to  be- 
come an  inmate  of  his  humble  but  hospitable  mansion,  I 
was  gratified  to  find  that  he  cordially  asser  t'-d  *'^  all  my 
proposals,  so  I  immediately  unstrapped  n  y  drawing  ma- 
terials, laid  up  my  gun,  and  sat  down  to  partake  of  the 
homely  but  wholesome  fare  intended  for  the  supper  of 
the  squatter,  his  wife,  and  his  two  sons.  The  quietness 
of  the  evening  seemed  in  perfect  accordance  with  the 
gentle  demeanour  of  the  family.  The  wife  and  children, 
I  more  than  once  thought,  seemed  to  look  upon  me  as  a 
strange  sort  of  person,  going  about,  as  I  told  them  I  was, 
in  search  of  birds  and  plants  ;  and  were  I  here  to  relate 
the  many  questions  which  they  put  to  me,  in  return  for 
those  which  I  addressed  to  them,  the  catalogue  would  oc- 
cupy several  pages.  The  husband,  a  native  of  Connecti- 
cut, had  heard  of  the  existence  of  such  men  as  myself, 
both  in  our  own  country  and  abroad,  and  seemed  greatly 
pleased  to  have  me  under  his  roof  Supper  over,  I  ask- 
ed my  kind  host  what  had  induced  him  to  remove  to  this 
wild  and  solitary  spot.  *The  people  are  growing  too 
numerous  now  to  thrive  in  Ne-  England,'  was  his  an- 
swer. I  thought  of  the  state  of  some  parts  of  Europe, 
and  calculating  the  denseness  of  their  population,  com- 
pared with  that  of  New  England,  exclaimed  to  myself, 
how  much  more  difficult  must  it  be  for  men  to  thrive  in 
those  populous  countries !  The  conversation  then 
changed,  and  the  squatter,  his  sons  and  myself  spoke  of 
hunting  and  fishing,  until  at  length  tired,  we  laid  our- 
selves down  on  pallets  of  bear-skins,  and  reposed  in  peace 
on  the  floor  of  the  only  apartment  of  which  the  hut  con- 


A  Panther  Hunt, 


403 


sisted.  Day  dawned,  and  the  squatter's  call  1  d  his  ii'"»gs, 
which,  being  almost  in  a  wild  state,  were  suffered  to  seek 
the  greater  portion  of  their  food  in  the  woods,  awakened 
me.  Being  ready  dressed,  I  was  not  long  in  joining  him. 
The  hogs  and  their  young  came  grunting  at  the  well- 
known  call  of  their  owner,  who  threw  them  a  few  ears  of 
com,  and  counted  them,  but  told  me  that  for  some  weeks 
their  number  had  been  greatly  diminished  by  the  ravages 
committed  upon  them  by  a  large  panther,  by  which  name 
the  cougar  is  designated  in  America,  and  that  the  raven- 
ous animal  did  not  content  himself  with  the  flesh  of  his 
pigs,  but  now  and  then  carried  off  one  of  his  calves,  not- 
withstanding the  many  attempts  he  had  made  to  shoot  it. 
The  *  painter,'  as  he  sometimes  called  it,  had  on  several 
occasions  robbed  him  of  a  dead  deer ;  and  to  these  ex- 
ploits, the  squatter  added  several  remarkable  feats  of  au- 
dacity which  it  had  performed,  to  give  me  an  idea  of  the 
formidable  character  of  the  beast.  Delighted  by  his  de- 
scription, I  offered  to  assist  him  in  destr  /ing  the  ene- 
my ;  at  which  he  was  highly  pleased,  but  assured  me  that 
unless  some  of  his  neighbors  should  join  us  with  their 
dogs  and  his  own,  the  attempt  would  prove  fruitless. 
Soon  after,  mounting  a  horse,  he  went  off  to  his  neigh- 
bors, several  of  whom  lived  at  a  distance  of  some  miles, 
and  appointed  a  day  of  meeting.  The  hunters  accord- 
ingly made  their  appearance  one  fine  morning  at  the  door 
of  the  cabin,  just  as  the  sun  was  emerging  from  beneath 
the  horizon.  They  were  five  in  number,  and  fully  equip- 
ped for  the  chase,  being  mounted  on  horses,  which  in 
some  parts  of  Europe  might  appear  sorry  nags,  but 
which  in  strength,  speed,  and  bottom,  are  better  fitted 
for  pursuing  a  cougar  or  a  bear  through  woods  and  mo- 
rasses than  any  in  their  country.  A  pack  of  large  ugly 
curs  was  already  engaged  in  making  acquaintance  with 
those  of  the  squatter.     He  and  myself  mounted  his  two 


■'A 


% 


vx. 


^ ; 


404 


Life  of  Audubon, 


best  horses,  whilst  his  sons  were  bestriding  others  of  in- 
ferior quality.  Few  words  were  uttered  by  the  party 
until  we  had  reached  the  edge  of  the  swamp,  where  it 
was  agreed  that  all  should  disperse,  and  seek  for  the 
fresh  track  of  the  *  painter,'  it  being  previously  settled 
that  the  discoverer  should  blow  his  horn,  and  remain  on 
the  spot  until  the  rest  should  join  him.-  In  less  than  an 
hour  the  sound  of  the  horn  was  clearly  heard,  and  stick- 
ing close  to  the  squatter,  off  we  went  through  the  thick 
woods,  guided  only  by  the  now-and-then  repeated  call  of 
the  distant  huntsman.  We  soon  reached  the  spot,  and  in 
a  short  time  the  rest  of  the  party  came  up.  The  best 
dog  was  sent  forward  to  track  the  cougar,  r.nd  in  a  few 
mom  lis  the  whole  pack  was  observed  diligently  trailing 
and  bearing  in  their  course  for  the  interior  of  the  swamp. 
The  rifles  were  immediately  put  in  trim,  and  the  party 
followed  the  dogs  at  separate  distances,  but  in  sight  of 
each  other,  determined  to  shoot  at  no  other  game  than 
the  panther. 

"  The  dogs  soon  began  to  mouth,  and  suddenly 
quickened  their  pace.  My  companions  concluded  that 
the  beast  was  on  the  ground,  and  putting  our  horses  to  a 
gentle  gallop,  we  followed  the  curs,  guided  by  their 
voices.  The  noise  of  the  dogs  increased,  when  all  of  a 
sudden  their  mode  of  barking  became  altered,  and  the 
squatter  urging  me  to  push  on,  told  me  that  the  beast 
was  treed^  by  which  he  meant,  that  it  had  got  upon  some 
low  branch  of  a  large  tree  to  rest  for  a  few  moments,  and 
that  should  we  not  succeed  in  shooting  him  when  thus 
situated,  we  might  expect  a  long  chase  of  it.  As  we  ap- 
proached the  spot,  we  all  by  degrees  united  into  a  body, 
but  on  seeing  the  dogs  at  the  foot  of  a  large  tree,  sepa- 
rated again,  and  galloped  off  to  surround  it.  Each  hunt- 
er now  moved  with  caution,  holding  his  gun  ready,  and 
allowing  the  bridle  to  dangle  on  the  neck  of  his  horse,  as 


A  Panther  Hunt, 


405 


it  advanced  slowly  towards  the  dogs.  A  shot  from  one 
of  the  pirty  was  heard,  on  which  the  cougar  was  seen  tc 
eap  to  the  ground,  and  bound  off  with  such  velocity  as 
to  show  that  he  was  very  unwilling  to  stand  our  fire 
longer.  The  dogs  set  off  in  pursuit  with  great  eagerness, 
and  a  deafening  cry.  The  hunter  who  had  fired  came  up 
and  said  that  his  ball  had  hit  the  monster,  and  had  prob- 
ably broken  one  of  his  forelegs,  near  the  shoulder,  the 
only  place  at  which  he  could  aim.  A  slight  trail  of 
blood  was  discovered  on  the  ground  but  the  curs  pro- 
ceeded at  such  a  rate  that  we  merely  noticed  this,  and 
put  spurs  to  our  horses,  which  galloped  on  towards  the 
centre  of  the  swamp.  One  bayou  was  crossed,  then 
another  still  larger  and  more  muddy,  but  the  dogs  were 
brushing  forward,  and  as  the  horses  began  to  pant  at  a 
furious  rate,  we  judged  it  expedient  to  leave  them,  and 
advance  on  foot.  These  determined  hunters  knew  that 
the  cougar,  being  wounded,  would  shortly  ascend  another 
tree,  where  in  all  probability  he  would  remain  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  and  that  it  would  be  easy  to  follow  the 
track  of  the  dogs.  We  dismounted,  took  off  the  saddles 
and  bridles,  set  the  bells  attached  to  the  horses'  necks  at 
liberty  to  jingle,  hoppled  the  animals,  and  left  them  to 
shift  for  themselves.  Now,  kind  reader,  follow  the  group 
ma:.'ching  through  the  swamp,  crossing  muddy  pools,  and 
making  the  best  of  their  way  over  fallen  trees,  and 
amongst  the  tangled  rushes  that  now  and  then  covered 
acres  of  ground.  If  you  are  a  hunter  yourself  all  this 
will  appear  nothing  to  you  ;  but  if  crowded  assemblies  of 
'beauty  and  fashion,'  or  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  your 
*  pleasure  grounds '  delight  you,  I  must  mend  my  pen  be- 
fore I  attempt  to  give  you  an  idea  of  the  pleasure  felt  on 
such  an  expedition.  After  marching  for  a  couple  of 
hours,  we  again  heard  the  dogs  :  each  of  us  pressed  for* 
ward,  elated  at  the  thought  of  terminating  the  career  of 


%■ 


iiii 


i-  ' 


% 


4o6 


Life  of  Audubon, 


"i  ^« 


the  cougar.     Some  of  the  dogs  were  heard  whining,  al 
though  the  greater  number  barked  vehemently.     We  feh 
assured  that  the  cougar  was  treed,  and  that  he  would  rest 
for  some  time  to  recover  from  his  fatigue.     As  we  came 
up  to  the  dogs,  we  discovered  the  ferocious  animal  lying 
across  a  large  branch,  close  to  the  trunk  of  a  cotton-wood 
tiee.     His  broad  breast  lay  towards  us  ;  his  eyes  were  at 
one  time  bent  on  us  and  again  on  the  dogs  beneath  and 
around  him  ;  one  of  his  fore-legs  hung  loosely  by  his  side, 
and  he  lay  crouched,  with  his  ears  lowered  close  to  his 
head,  as  if  he  tbought  he  might  remain  undiscovered. 
Three  balls  were  fired  at  him  at  a  given  signal,  on  which 
he  sprang  a  few  feet  from  the  branch,  and  tumbled  head- 
long to  the  ground,  attacked  on  all  sides  by  the  enraged 
curs.    The    infuriated    cougar    fought    with    desperate 
valour  J  but  the  squatter  advancing  in  front  of  the  party, 
and,  almost  in  the  midst  of  the  dogs,  shot  him  immedi- 
ately behind  and  beneath  the  left  shoulder.     The  cougar 
writhed  for  a  moment  in  agony,  and  in  another  lay  dead. 
The  sun  was  now  sinking  in  the  west.     Two  of  the  hunt- 
ers separated  from  the  rest  to  procure  venison,  whilst  the 
squatter's  sons  were  ordered  to  make  the  best  of  their 
way  home,  to  be  ready  to  feed  the  hogs  in  the  morning. 
The  rest  of  the  party  agreed  to  camp  on  the  spot.     The 
cougar  was  despoiled  of  his  skin,  and  the  carcass  left  to 
the  hungry  dogs.     Whilst  engaged   in    preparing    our 
camp,  we  heard  the  report  of  a  gun,  and  soon  after  one 
of  our  hunters  returned  with  a  small  deer.     A  fire  was 
lighted,  and  each  hunter  displayed  his  *  pone  '  of  bread, 
along  with  a  flask  of  whisky.     The  deer  was  skinned  in 
a  trice,  and  slices  placed  on  sticks  before  the  fire.     These 
materials  afforded  us  an  excellent  meal ;  and  as  the  night 
grew  darker,  stories  and  songs  went  round,  until  my  com- 
panions, fatigued,  laid  themselves  down,  close  under  the 
smoke  of  the  fire,  and  soon  fell  asleep.    I  walked  foi 


Galveston  Harbor, 


407 


some  minutes  round  the  camp  to  contemplate  the  beauties 
of  that  Nature,  from  which  I  have  certainly  derived  my 
greatest  pleasure.  I  thought  of  the  occurrences  of  the 
day  ;  and  glancing  my  eye  around,  remarked  the  sin<;ular 
effects  produced  by  the  phosphorescent  qualities  of  the 
large  decayed  trunks,  which  lay  in  all  directions  around 
me.  How  easy,  I  thought,  would  it  be  for  the  confused 
and  agitated  mind  of  a  person  bewildered  in  a  swamp 
like  this  to  imagine  in  each  of  these  luminous  masses 
some  wondrous  and  fearful  being,  the  very  sight  of  which 
might  make  the  hair  stand  erect  on  his  hea  1 !  The 
thought  of  being  myself  placed  in  such  a  predicament 
burst  upon  my  mind  ;  and  I  hastened  to  join  my  com- 
panions, beside  whom  I  laid  me  down  and  slept,  assured 
that  no  enemy  would  approach  us  without  first  rousing 
the  dogs,  which  were  growling  in  fierce  dispute  over  the 
remains  of  the  cougar.  At  daybreak  we  left  our  camp, 
the  squatter  bearing  on  his  shoulders  the  skin  of  the  late 
destroyer  of  his  stock,  and  retraced  our  steps  until  we 
found  our  horses,  which  had  not  strayed  far  from  the 
place  where  we  left  them.  These  we  soon  saddled  ;  and 
jogging  along  in  a  direct  course,  guided  by  the  sun,  con- 
gratulating each  other  on  the  destruction  of  so  formidable 
a  neighbour  as  the  panther  had  been,  we  soon  arrived  at 
my  host's  cabin.  The  five  neighbours  partook  of  such 
refreshments  as  the  house  could  afford,  and,  dispersing, 
returned  to  their  homes,  leaving  me  to  follow  my  favorite 
pursuits. 

"  April  24.  Arrived  in  Galveston  Bay  this  afternoon, 
having  had  a  fine  run  from  Atchafalaya  Bay.  We  were 
soon  boarded  by  officers  from  the  Texan  vessels  in  the 
harbor,  who  informed  us  that  two  days  before  the  U.  S. 
sloop  of  war  Natchez  fell  in  with  the  Mexican  squadron 
off  the  harbor  of  Velasco,  captured  the  brig  Urea,  and 
ran  two  other  vessels  ashore  ;  another  report  sa)s  the} 


^ 


i  !1 


4o8 


Life  of  Audubon. 


sunk  another  ship,  and  went  in  pursuit  of  the  squadroa 
These  vessels  were  taken  as  pirates  —  the  fleet  having 
sailed  from  Vera  Cruz  without  being  provisioned,  had 
been  plundering  American  vessels  on  the  coast.  There 
IS  also  a  rumor  that  the  Texim  schooner  Independence 
has  been  captured  by  a  Mexican  cruiser.  The  American 
schooner  Flash  was  driven  ashore  a  few  days  since  by  a 
Mexican  cruiser,  and  now  lies  on  the  beach  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  island. 

"  April  2^.  A  heavy  gale  blew  all  night,  and  this  morn- 
ing the  thermometer  in  the  cabin  is  63°,  and  thousands 
of  birds,  arrt  >ted  by  the  storm  in  their  migration  north- 
ward, are  seen  hovering  around  our  vessels,  and  hiding 
in  the  grass,  and  some  struggling  in  the  water,  completely 
exhausted. 

"  We  had  a  visit  this  morning  from  the  Secretary  of 
the  Texan  navy,  Mr.  C.  Rhodes  Fisher,  who  breakfasted 
with  us.  lie  appeared  to  be  a  well-informed  man,  and 
talked  a  great  deal  about  the  infant  republic,  and  then 
left  us  for  the  seat  of  government  at  Houston,  seventy 
miles  distant,  on  the  steamer  Yellow  Stone,  accompanied 
by  Captains  Casto  and  Taylor,  taking  the  Crusader  in  tow. 

"April  26.  Went  ashore  at  Galveston.  The  only  ob- 
jects we  saw  of  interest  were  the  Mexican  prisoners  ;  they 
are  used  as  %h\ts ;  made  to  carry  wood  and  water,  and 
cut  grass  for  the  horses,  and  such  work ;  it  is  said  that 
some  are  made  to  draw  the  plow.  They  all  appear  to  be  of 
delicate  frame  and  constitution,  but  are  not  dejected  in 
appearance. 

"  April  27.  We  were  off  at  an  early  hour  for  the  island, 
two  miles  distant ;  we  waded  nearly  all  the  distance,  so 
very  shallow  and  filled  with  sandbanks  is  this  famous  Bay. 
The  men  made  a  large  fire  to  keep  off  the  mosquitoes, 
which  were  annoying  enough  for  even  me.  Besides 
many  interesting  birds,  we  found  a  new  species  of  rat- 


Galveston  Island, 


409 


tiesnake,  with  a  double  row  of  fangs  on  each  side  of  its 
jaws. 

^^  April  28.  We  went  on  a  deer  hunt  on  Galveston 
Island,  where  these  animals  are  abundant ;  we  saw  about 
twenty-five,  and  killed  four. 

"  April  29.  John  took  a  view  of  the  rough  village  of 
Galveston,  with  the  Lucida.  We  found  much  company 
on  board  on  our  return  to  the  vessel,  among  whom  was 
a  contractor  for  beef  for  the  army ;  he  was  from  Connecti- 
cut, and  has  a  family  residing  near  the  famous  battle- 
ground of  San  Jacinto.  He  promised  me  some  skulls 
of  Mexicans,  and  some  plants,  for  he  is  bumped  with 
botanical  bumps  somewhere. 

"  Galveston  Bay,  May  i,  1837.  I  was  much  fatigued 
this  morning,  and  the  muscles  of  my  legs  were  swelled 
until  they  were  purple,  so  that  I  could  not  go  on  shore. 
The  musk-rat  is  the  only  small  quadruped  found  here, 
and  the  common  house-rat  has  not  yet  reached  this  part 
of  the  world. 

^^May  2.  Went  ashore  on  Galveston  Island,  and  landed 
on  a  point  where  the  Texan  garrison  is  quartered.  We 
passed  through  the  troops,  and  observed  the  miserable 
condition  of  the  whole  concern ;  huts  made  of  grass,  and 
a  few  sticks  or  sods  cut  into  square  pieces  composed  the 
buildings  of  the  poor  Mexican  prisoners,  which,  half  clad, 
and  half  naked,  strolled  about  in  a  state  of  apparent  inac- 
tivity. We  passed  two  sentinels  under  arms,  very  unlike 
soldiers  in  appearance.  The  whole  population  seemed 
both  indolent  and  reckless.  We  saw  a  few  fowls,  one 
pig,  and  a  dog,  which  appeared  to  be  all  the  domestic 
animals  in  the  encampment.  We  saw  only  three  women, 
who  were  Mexican  prisoners.  The  soldiers'  huts  are 
placed  in  irregular  rows,  and  at  unequal  distances;  a 
dirty  blanket  or  coarse  rag  hangs  over  the  entrance  in 
place  of  a  door.  No  windows  were  seen,  except  in  one 
18 


m 


I' 


410 


Life  of  Auduhon. 


h;,  I  * 


or  two  cabins  occupied  by  Texan  officers  and  soldiers. 
A  dozen  or  more  long  guns  lay  about  on  the  sand,  and 
one  of  about  the  same  calibre  was  mounted.  There  was 
a  look-out  house  fronting  and  commanding  the  entrance 
to  the  harbor,  and  at  the  point  where  the  three  channels 
meet  there  were  four  guns  mounted  of  smaller  calibre. 
We  readily  observed  that  not  much  nicety  prevailed  among 
the  Mexican  prisoners,  and  we  learned  that  their  habits  were 
as  filthy  as  their  persons.  We  also  found  a  few  beautiful 
flowers,  and  among  them  one  which  Harris  and  I  at  once 
nicknamed  the  Texan  daisy  ;  and  we  gathered  a  number  of 
their  seeds,  hoping  to  make  them  flourish  elsewhere.  On 
the  top  of  one  of  the  huts  we  saw  a  badly-stuffed  skin  of 
a  grey  or  black  wolf,  of  the  same  species  as  I  have  seen 
on  the  Missouri.  When  we  were  returning  to  the  vessel 
we  discovered  a  large  sword-fish  grounded  on  one  of  the 
sandbanks,  and  after  a  sharp  contest  killed  her  with  our 
guns.  In  what  we  took  to  be  a  continuation  of  the  stom- 
ach of  this  fish,  we  found  four  young  ones,  and  in  another 
part  resembling  the  stomach  six  more  were  packed,  all 
of  them  alive  and  wriggling  about  as  soon  as  they  were 
thrown  on  the  sand.  It  would  be  a  fact  worth  solving  to 
know  if  these  fish  carry  their  young  like  viviparous  rep- 
tiles. The  young  were  about  thirty  inches  in  length,  and 
minute  sharp  teeth  were  already  formed. 

"  May  8.  To-day  we  hoisted  anchor,  bound  to  Hous- 
ton :  after  grounding  a  few  times,  we  reached  Red  Fish 
Bar,  distant  twelve  miles,  where  we  found  several  Ameri- 
can schooners  and  one  brig.  It  blew  hard  all  night,  and 
we  were  uncomfortable. 

"  May  9.  We  left  Red  Fish  Bar  with  the  Crusader  and 
the  gig,  and  with  a  fair  wind  proceeded  rapidly,  and  soon 
came  up  to  the  new-born  town  of  New  Washington^ 
owned  mostly  by  Mr.  Swartwout  the  collector  of  customs 
of  New  York.     We  passed  several  plantations  ;  and  the 


At  Houston^  Texas, 


411 


general  appearance  of  the  country  was  more  plrasing  that 
otherwise.  About  noon  we  entered  Buffalo  Bayou,  at 
the  mouth  of  the  San  Jacinto  River,  and  opposite  the 
famous  battle-ground  of  the  same  name.  Proceeding 
smoothly  up  the  bayou,  we  saw  abundance  of  gnnic,  and 
at  the  distance  of  some  twenty  miles  stopped  at  the 
house  of  a  Mr.  Batterson.  This  bayou  is  usually  slug 
gish,  deep,  and  bordered  on  both  sides  with  a  strip  of 
woods  not  exceeding  a  mile  in  depth.  The  banks  have  a 
gentle  slope,  and  the  soil  on  its  shores  is  good  ;  but  the 
prairies  in  the  rear  are  cold  and  generally  wet,  bored  by 
innumerable  cray-fish,  destitute  of  clover,  but  covered 
with  coarse  grass  and  weeds,  with  a  sight  here  and  there 
of  a  grove  of  timber,  rising  from  a  bed  of  cold,  wet  clay. 

It  rained  and  lightened,  and  we  passed  the  night  at 
Mr.  Batterson'3.  The  tenth  it  rained  ag^in,  but  we 
pushed  on  to  Houston,  and  arrived  there  wet  and  hungry. 
7'he  rain  had  swollen  the  water  in  the  b^you,  and  in- 
creased the  current  so  that  we  were  eight  hom's  rowi..g 
twelve  miles. 

'■^  May  15.  We  landed  at  Houston,  the  capital  of  Texas, 
drenched  to  the  skin,  and  were  kindly  received  on  board 
the  steamer  Yellow  Stone,  Captain  West,  who  gave  us  his 
state-room  to  change  our  clothes,  and  furnished  us  re- 
freshments and  dinner. 

"  The  Buffalo  Bayou  l^ad  risen  about  six  feet,  and  the 
neighboring  prairies  were  partly  covered  with  water  : 
there  was  a  wild  and  desolate  look  cast  on  the  surround- 
ing scenery.  We  had  already  passed  two  little  girls  en- 
camped on  the  bank  of  the  bayou,  under  the  cover  of  a 
few  clap-boards,  cooking  a  scanty  meal ;  shanties,  car- 
goes of  hogsheads,  barrels,  &:c.,  were  spread  about  the 
landing ;  and  Indians  drunk  and  hallooing  were  stum* 
bling  about  in  the  mud  in  every  direction.  These  poor 
beings  had  come  here  to  enter  into  a  treaty  proposed  by 


!i' 


r 


r 


iii(?5 


412 


Life  of  Audubon, 


the  whites ;  many  of  them  were  young  and  well  looking, 
and  with  far  less  decorations  than  I  have  seen  before  on 
such  occasions.  The  chief  of  the  tribe  is  an  old  and  cor- 
pulent man. 

"  We  walked  towards  the  President's  house,  accom- 
panied by  the  secretary  of  the  navy,  and  as  soon  as  we 
rose  above  the  bank,  we  saw  before  us  a  level  of  far-ex- 
tending prairie,  destitute  of  timber,  and  rather  poor  soil. 
Houses  half  finished,  and  most  of  them  without  roofs, 
tents,  and  a  liberty  pole,  with  the  capitol,  were  all  exhib- 
ited to  our  view  at  once.  We  approached  the  President's 
mansion,  however,  wading  through  water  above  our 
ankles.  This  abode  of  President  Houston  is  a  small  log- 
house,  consisting  of  two  rooms,  and  a  passage  thtm  ^h, 
after  the  Southern  fashion.  The  moment  we  stepped 
over  the  threshold,  on  the  right  hand  of  the  passage  we 
found  ourselves  ushered  into  what  in  other  countries 
would  be  called  the  ante-chamber  j  the  ground  floor  how- 
ever was  muddy  and  filthy,  a  large  fire  was  burning,  a 
small  table  covered  with  paper  and  writing  materials, 
was  in  the  centre,  camp-beds,  trunks,  and  different  ma- 
terials, were  strewed  around  the  room.  We  were  at  once 
presented  to  several  members  of  the  cabinet,  some  of 
whom  bore  the  stamp  of  men  of  intellectual  ability,  sim- 
ple though  bold,  in  their  general  appearance.  Here  we 
were  presented  to  Mr.  Crawford,  an  agent  of  the  British 
Minister  to  Mexico,  who  has  come  here  on  some  secret 
mission. 

"  The  President  was  engaged  in  the  opposite  room  on 
national  business,  and  we  could  not  see  him  for  some 
time.  Meanwhile  we  amused  ourselves  by  walking  to  the 
capitol,  which  was  yet  without  a  roof,  and  the  floors, 
benches,  and  tables  of  both  houses  of  Congross  were  as 
well  saturated  with  water  as  our  clothes  had  been  in  the 
morning.     Being  invited  by  one  of  tlie  great  men  of  the 


President  Sam,  Houston, 


413 


place  to  enter  a  booth  to  take  a  drink  of  grog  with  him, 
we  did  so  ;  but  I  was  rather  surprised  that  he  offered  hia 
name,  instead  of  the  cash  to  the  bar-keeper. 

"  We  first  caught  sight  of  President  Houston  as  he 
jvalked  from  one  of  the  grog-shops,  where  he  had  been  to 
prevent  the  sale  of  ardent  spirits.  He  was  on  his  way  to 
his  house,  and  wore  a  large  gray  coarse  hat  j  and  the 
bulk  of  his  figure  reminded  me  of  the  appearance  of  Gen- 
eral Hopkins  of  Virginia,  for  like  him  he  is  upwards  of 
six  feet  high,  and  strong  in  proportion.  But  I  observed 
a  scowl  in  the  expression  of  his  eyes,  that  was  forbidding 
and  disagreeable.  We  reached  his  abode  before  him,  but 
he  soon  came,  and  we  were  presented  to  his  excellency. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  fancy  velvet  coat,  and  trowsers 
trimmed  with  broad  gold  lace  ;  around  his  neck  was  tied 
a  cravat  somewhat  in  the  style  of  seventy-six.  He  re- 
ceived us  kindly,  was  desirous  of  retaining  us  for  awhile, 
and  offered  us  every  facility  within  his  power.  He  at 
once  removed  us  from  the  ante-room  to  his  private  cham- 
ber, which  by  the  way  was  not  much  cleaner  than  the 
former.  We  were  severally  introduced  by  him  to  the 
different  members  of  his  cabinet  and  staff,  and  at  once 
asked  to  drink  grog  with  him,  which  we  did,  wishing  suc- 
cess to  his  new  republic.  Our  talk  was  short ;  but  the 
impression  which  was  made  on  my  mind  at  the  time  by 
himself,  his  officers,  and  his  place  of  abode,  can  never  be 
forgotten. 

"  We  returned  to  our  boat  through  a  melee  of  Indians 
and  blackguards  of  all  sorts.  In  giving  a  last  glance  back 
we  once  more  noticed  a  number  of  horses  rambling  about 
the  grounds,  or  tied  beneath  the  few  trees  that  have  been 
spared  by  the  axe.  We  also  saw  a  liberty  pole,  erected 
on  the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  San  Jacinto,  on  the 
twenty-first  of  last  April,  and  were  informed  that  a  brave 
tar,  who  rigged  the  Texan  flag  on  that  occasion,  had  beep 


H'lM 


414 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


personally  rewarded  by  President  L'custon,  with  a  town 
lot,  a  doubloon,  and  the  privilege  of  keeping  a  ferry 
across  the  Buffalo  Bayou  at  the  town,  where  the  bayou 
forks  diverge  in  opposite  directions. 

*''  May  1 6.  Departed  for  New  Washington,  where  we 
received  kind  attentions  from  Col.  James  Morgan  ;  cross- 
ed San  Jacinto  Bay  to  the  Campbell,  and  the  next  day 
dropped  down  to  Galveston. 

*■''  May  1 8.  Left  the  bar  of  Galveston,  having  on  board 
Mr.  Crawford,  British  Consul  at  Tampico,  and  a  Mr.  Al- 
len of  New  Orleans. 

"  May  24.  Arrived  at  the  S.  W.  Pass,  and  proceeded 
to  the  Balize,  and  thence  to  New  Orleans,  where  we  ar- 
rived in  three  days. 

^^  New  Orleans  J  May  28.  Breakfast  with  Ex-Go  vemor 
Roman  and  his  delightful  family,  with  Mr.  Edward  Har- 


ris." 

Audubon  suffered  greatly  during  this  expedition  to 
Texas,  and  lost  twelve  pounds  in  weight.  He  found  New 
Orleans  nearly  deserted,  and  dull,  and  the  weather  op- 
pressively hot  and  disagreeable. 

"  May  7  1.  We  bid  adieu  to  our  New  Orleans  friends, 
leaving  in  their  care  for  shipment  our  collections,  cloth- 
ing, and  dog  Dash  for  Mr.  W.  Bakewell.  Harris  went  up 
the  river,  and  we  crossed  to  Mobile  in  the  steamer  Swan, 
paying  fare  twelve  dollars  each,  and  making  the  trip  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in  twenty-one  hours.  If  New 
Orleans  appeared  prostrated,  Mobile,  seemed  quite  dead. 
We  left  in  the  afternoon  for  Stockton,  Alabama,  forty-five 
miles  distant,  where  we  were  placed  in  a  cart,  and  tum- 
bled and  tossed  for  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  miles  to 
Montgomery ;  fare  twenty-three  dollars  each,  miserable 
road  and  rascally  fare.  At  Montgomery  we  took  the 
mail  coach,  and  were  much  relieved  ;  fare  to  Columbus 
twenty-six  dollars  each.     Our  travelling  companions  werf 


'    1 


Settles  in  New  Tork  City, 


415 


without  interest,  the  weather  was  suffocating,  and  the 
roads  dirty  and  very  rough ;  we  made  but  three  miles  an 
hour  for  the  whole  journey,  walking  up  the  hills,  and  gal- 
loping down  them  to  Augusta,  and  paying  a  fare  of  thir- 
teen dollars  and  fifty  cents  each,  and  thence  by  rail  to 
Charleston  for  six  dollars  and  seventy-five  cents  each, 
distance  one  hundred  and  thiriy-six  miles,  and  making 
eight  and  a  half  days  from  New  Orleans." 

After  remaining  a  short  time  in  Charleston,  Audubon 
returned  to  New  York,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  the  sum- 
mer sailed  for  Liverpool.  After  landing  there  and  greet- 
ing his  friends,  he  went  to  London,  taking  the  new 
drawings  he  had  made  to  Mr.  Havell,  and  then,  after 
spending  a  few  days  with  his  family,  departed  for  Edin- 
burgh. There  he  went  diligently  to  work  in  preparing 
the  fourth  volume  of  his  "  Ornithological  Biography  "  for 
the  press.  The  work  held  him  until  the  Fall  of  1838,  and 
was  published  in  November  of  that  year.  His  family 
now  joined  huu  in  Edinburgh,  and  the  winter  was  devo- 
ted to  finishing  the  drawings  for  the  completion  of  his 
great  volume  on  the  "  Birds  of  America,"  and  also  to  pre- 
paring his  fifth  volume  of  the  "  Ornithological  Biography," 
which  was  published  in  Edinburgh  in  May,  1839. 

In  the  Fall  of  1839  he  returned  to  America  with  his 
family,  and  settled  in  New  York  city,  there  to  spend  the 
remainder  of  his  days.  But  he  did  not  intend  to  be  idle, 
but  immediately  began  preparing  his  last  great  ornitho- 
logical work,  which  is  a  copy  of  his  original  English  pub- 
lication, with  the  figures  reduced  and  lithographed,  in 
seven  octavo  volumes.  The  first  volume  was  published 
within  a  little  more  than  a  year  after  his  return,  two  more 
volumes  appeared  in  1842,  another  in  1843,  while  he  was 
absent  on  his  expedition  to  the  Yellow-stone  River,  and 
the  last  one  after  his  return. 

Besides  all  this  labor,  he  devoted  occasional  spare 


-f 


% 


4i6 


Life  of  Audubon, 


hours  to  improving  and  increasing  the  drawings  of  the 
quadrupeds  of  North  America,  which  he  had  begun  some 
years  before  in  connection  with  the  Rev.  John  Bachman 
of  South  Carolina. 

The  early  pages  of  the  journal  show  that  Audubon 
had  been  anxious  to  visit  the  great  interior  valley  of  the 
Mississippi  and  the  Rocky  Mountains  eve-^'  since  he  be- 
gan to  devote  his  time  exclusively  to  ornithological  re- 
search ;  and  twenty  years  before  his  return  to  America, 
he  had  traced  out  the  course  he  wished  to  go.  During 
all  those  years  of  unremitting  toil,  the  desire  and  hope  of 
seeing  the  Great  Plains  and  the  Rocky  Mountains  nevei 
deserted  him.  But  after  he  had  resolved  to  complete  and 
publish  his  work  on  the  Quadrupeds  of  America,  he  felt 
that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  do  it  satisfactorily 
until  he  had  seen  with  his  own  eyes  the  buffaloes  of  the 
plains,  and  other  animals  of  those  regions  whose  habits 
had  never  been  described. 

Much  of  his  earthly  work  was  done ;  the  infirmities 
of  age  were  stealing  upon  him ;  and  the  Journal  often 
alludes  to  .he  fact  that  his  physical  powers  were  not 
equal  to  his  mental  longings.  He  seems  to  have  de- 
termined therefore  to  make  an  effort  to  accomplish  the 
long-cherished  desire  of  his  heart,  to  look  on  the  magnifi- 
cent scenery  of  the  prairies  and  mountains  of  the  West, 
and  to  gather  the  materials  for  his  Quadrupeds,  which  he 
knew  would  probably  be  his  last  work  on  earth.  So  as 
soon  as  he  had  settled  his  family  at  Minnie's  land,  where 
he  invested  all  the  money  he  had  made  by  his  publica- 
tions up  to  that  date,  he  prepared  at  once  for  his  last 
great  journey,  the  grandest  of  all  his  journeys,  to  the  Wea* 
tern  Wilderness. 


CHAPTER  XXXV, 

Excursion  to  the  Great  Western  Prairies — Up  the  Missouri—' Rivet 
Pictures— Indians — The  Mandans — The  '^^ Medicine  Lodge'''' -^ 
Ricaree  Indians — Fort  Union — Arrival  at  Yellow  Stone  River-" 
Buffalo  Hunt — Small-Pox  among  the  Indians — Return  to  Neva 
York, 

ARCH  Hi  1843.  Left  New  York  this  morning 
with  my  son  Victor,  on  an  expedition  to  the  Yel- 
low-stone River,  and  regions  adjacent  and  un- 
known, undertaken  for  the  sake  of  our  work  on  the  *  Quad- 
rupeds of  North  America,'  and  arrived  in  Philadelphia 
late  in  the  evening. 

"  As  we  landed,  a  tall,  robust-looking  man,  tapped  me 
on  the  shoulder,  whom  I  discovered  in  the  dim  darkness 
to  be  my  friend,  Jedediah  Irish,  of  the  Great  Pine  Swamp. 
I  also  met  my  friend,  Edward  Harris,  who,  besides  John 
G.  Bell,  Isaac  Sprague,  and  Lewis  Squires,  were  to  ac- 
company me  on  this  long  campaign.  The  next  morning 
we  left  for  Baltimore,  and  Victor  returned  home  to  Min- 
nie's Land." 

There  are  four  folio  volumes  of  MS.  containing  a  de- 
tailed account  of  that  whole  journey,  which  lasted  about 
eight  months.  But  as  most  of  the  journals  were  inwoven 
into  the  three  volumes  on  the  "  Quadrupeds  of  North 
America,"  which  were  published  in  the  years  1846,  185 1, 
and  1854,  we  give  but  an  outline  of  the  journey,  and  the 
gleanings  of  such  incidents  as  were  not  used  in  those 
volumes. 

Audubon  and  his  party  crossed  the  Alleghany  Moun- 
18* 


4i8 


Life  of  Audubon, 


\r-s    J. 


tains  to  Wheeling,  went  from  there  to  Cincinnati  and  St 
Louis  by  steamers,  where  they  arrived  on  the  28th  of 
March.  From  thence  they  ascended  the  Missouri  Rivei 
to  Jefferson  City,  the  capital  of  the  State,  about  one  hun 
dred  and  seventy  miles  from  St.  Louis.  There  they  saw 
nothing  worthy  of  note  except  the  State  House  and  Peni 
tentiary. 

The  town  was  a  poor-looking  place,  and  the  neighboi- 
ing  country  poor  and  broken  ;  but  the  public  buildings 
commanded  a  fine  view  up  and  down  the  river.  "  Yester- 
lay,"  says  the  Journal,  "  we  passed  many  long  lines  of 
elevated  banks,  ornamented  by  stupendous  rocks  of  lime- 
stone, having  many  curious  holes,  into  which  we  saw  vul- 
tures and  eagles  enter  towards  evening. 

"  As  we  ascended  the  river  the  strength  of  the  current 
mcreased,  and  in  some  places  we  stemmed  it  with  diffi- 
culty ;  and  near  Willow  Islands  it  ran  so  rapidly,  that  we 
found  ourselves  going  down  stream,  and  were  compelled 
to  make  fast  to  the  shore. 

"  March  30.  As  we  sail  along  the  shores,  I  notice 
young  willows  and  cotton-trees  half  submerged  by  the 
freshet,  waving  to  and  fro,  as  if  trembling  at  the  rage  of 
the  rushing  water,  and  in  fear  of  being  destroyed  by  it ; 
and  it  really  seemed  as  if  the  mighty  current  was  going 
to  overwhelm  in  its  rage  all  that  the  Creator  had  lavished 
on  its  luxuriant  shore.  The  banks  are  falling  in  and  tak- 
ing thousands  of  trees,  and  the  current  is  bearing  them 
away  from  the  places  where  they  have  stood  and  grown 
for  ages.  It  is  an  awful  exemplification  of  the  course  of 
Nature,  where  all  is  conflict  between  life,  and  death. 

^^  March  31.  As  we  sail  up  the  river,  squatters  and 
planters  are  seen  abandoning  their  dwellings,  which  the 
water  is  overflowing,  and  making  towards  the  highlands, 
that  are  from  one  to  four  miles  inland.  AVe  passed  two 
houses  filled  with  women  and  children,  entirely  surround 


Fort  Leavenwor  th. 


419 


ed  by  water ;  the  whole  place  was  under  water,  and  aU 
around  was  a  picture  of  utter  desolation.  The  men  had 
gone  to  seek  assistance,  and  I  was  grieved  that  oar  cap* 
tain  did  not  offer  to  render  them  any  ;  the  banks  kept  on 
falling  in,  and  precipitating  majestic  trees  into  the  devour- 
ing current. 

"  J/ay  2.  We  are  now  three  hundred  and  eighty  miles 
from  St.  Louis,  and  are  landing  freight  and  traders  for 
Santa  F^. 

"  May  3.  We  reached  Fort  Leavenworth  this  morning. 
The  garrison  here  is  on  a  fine  elevation,  commanding  a 
good  view  of  the  river  above  and  below  for  a  consider- 
able distance.  Leaving  here,  we  entered  the  real  Indian 
country  on  the  west  side  of  the  river ;  for  the  State  of 
Missouri,  by  the  purchase  of  the  Platte  River  country, 
continues  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  farther;  and 
here  only  are  any  settlements  of  white  inhabitants. 

"  May  5.  After  grounding  on  sand-bars,  and  contend- 
ing against  head-winds  and  currents,  we  reachc  1  the 
Black  Snake  Hills  settlement,  which  is  a  delightful  site 
for  a  populous  city  that  will  be  here  some  fifty  years 
hence.  The  hills  are  two  hundred  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  river,  and  slope  down  gently  on  the  opposite  side 
to  the  beautiful  prairies,  that  extend  over  thousands  of 
acres  of  the  richest  land  imaginable.  Here  the  general 
aspect  of  the  river  greatly  changes ;  it  becomes  more 
crooked,  and  filled  with  naked  sand-bars,  from  which  the 
wind  whirls  the  sand  in  every  direction.  We  passed 
through  a  narrow  and  swift  chute,  which,  in  the  time  of 
high  water  must  be  extremely  difficult  to  ascend. 

"  May  6.  We  fastened  our  boat  to  the  edge  of  a  beau- 
tiful prairie,  to  land  freight  and  passengers.  Here  eighty 
Indians  came  to  visit  us,  some  on  foot  and  some  on  horse- 
back, generally  riding  double,  on  skins  and  Spanish  sad- 
dles; some  squaws  rode,  and  rode  well.     We  landed 


« 


mi 


IH 


w 


4.20 


Life  of  Avduhon. 


some  Indians  ht^re,  who  came  as  passengers  with  us,  and 
I  noticed  that  when  they  joined  their  relatives  and  friends, 
they  neither  shook  hands  nor  exchanged  any  congratula- 
tions I  saw  no  emotion,  nothing  to  corroborate  Mr. 
Catlin's  views  of  savage  life. 

"  When  the  boat  started,  all  these  Indians  followed  us 
along  the  shore,  running  on  foot,  and  galloping  on  horse* 
back  to  keep  up  with  us.  When  we  approached  the  next 
landing,  I  saw  some  of  these  poor  creatures  perched  on 
the  neighboring  banks,  while  others  crowded  down  to  oui 
landing-place.  They  belonged  to  the  Iowa  and  Fox  In- 
dians :  the  two  tribes  number  about  twelve  thousand,  and 
their  country  extends  for  seventy  miles  up  the  river. 

"  May  8.  To-day  we  passed  the  boundary  of  Missouri, 
and  the  country  consists  of  prairies  extending  back  to  the 
inland  hills. 

"  May  9.  This  evening  we  arrived  at  the  famous  set- 
tlement of  Belle  Vue,  where  the  Indian  agent,  or  custom- 
house officer,  as  he  might  better  be  called,  resides.  Here 
a  large  pack  of  ra:ically-looking,  dirty,  and  half-starved 
Indians  awaited  our  arrival ;  and  here  we  paid  for  five 
cords  of  wood,  with  five  tin  cups  of  sugar,  and  three  cups 
of  coffee,  all  worth  twenty-five  cents  at  St.  Louis.  And 
we  saw  here  the  first  plowed  ground  we  had  seen  since 
leaving  the  settlements  near  St.  Louis. 

"  May  10.  Arrived  at  Fort  Croghan,  named  after  an 
old  friend  of  that  name,  with  whom  1  hunted  raccoons  on 
his  father's  plantation  in  Kentucky,  thirty-five  years  be- 
fore. His  father  and  mine  were  well  acquainted,  and 
fought  together  with  the  great  General  Washington  and 
Lafayette,  in  the  Revolutionary  War  against '  Merry  Eng- 
land.' The  parade-ground  here  had  been  four  feet  under 
water  in  the  late  freshet. 

^^  May  II.  The  officers  of  this  post  last  July  were 
nearly  destitute  of  provisions,  and  they  sent  off  twentjf 


At  Council  fluffs. 


421 


dragoons  and  twenty  Indians  on  a  buffalo  hunt ;  and 
within  eighty  miles  of  the  fort,  they  killed  fifty-one  buffa- 
loes, one  hundred  and  four  deer,  and  ten  elks. 

'•  We  were  told  that  the  Pottowatomie  Indians  were  for 
inerly  a  warlike  people,  but  recently  their  enemies,  the 
Sioux,  have  frequently  killed  them,  when  they  met  them 
on  hunting  excursions,  and  that  they  have  become  quite 
cowardly,  which  is  a  great  change  in  their  character. 

"We  cast  off  our  lines  from  the  shore  at  twelve 
o'clock,  and  by  sunset  reached  the  Council  Bluffs,  where 
the  river-bed  is  utterly  changed,  though  that  called  the  Old 
Missouri  is  now  visible.  These  Bluffs  rise  from  a  truly 
beautiful  bank  about  forty  feet  above  the  river,  and  slope 
down  into  as  beautiful  a  prairie  to  the  hills  in  the  rear, 
which  render  the  scenery  very  fine  and  very  remarkable. 

^^  May  12.  We  have  arrived  at  the  most  crooked  part 
of  the  river  yet  seen,  the  shores  on  both  sides  are  lower, 
the  hills  are  more  distant,  and  the  intervening  plains  are 
more  or  less  covered  with  water.  We  passed  the  Black- 
bird Hills,  where  a  famous  Indian  chief  of  this  name  was 
buried,  and  his  horse  buried  alive  with  him  at  his  request. 

'■^  May  13.  To-day  we  passed  some  beautiful  bluffs, 
composed  of  a  fine  white  sandstone,  of  a  soft  texture,  but 
beautiful  to  the  eye,  and  covered  with  cedars.  We  saw 
also  many  fine  prairies  ;  and  the  bottom  lands  appeared 
to  be  of  an  extremely  rich  soil.  Indians  hailed  us  along 
(he  shore,  but  no  notice  was  taken  of  them :  they  follow- , 
ed  us  to  the  next  landing,  and  boarded  us  \  but  our  cap- 
tain hates  them,  and  they  go  away  without  a  chew  of  to- 
bacco, and  I  pity  the  poor  creatures  with  all  my  heart. 

"  This  evening  we  came  to  the  Burial-ground  Bluff; 
so  called  by  the  ever-memorable  expedition  of  Lewis  and 
Clark,  because  here  they  buried  Sergeant  Floyd,  as  they 
were  on  the  way  to  the  Pacific  Ocean  across  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  The  prairies  are  now  more  frequent  and  more 


422 


Life  of  Audubon. 


'U 


elevated  ;  and  we  have  seen  more  evergreens  to-day  thar 
in  the  two  preceding  weeks. 

"  We  have  entered  the  mouth  of  the  Big  Sioux  River, 
which  is  a  clear  stream,  abounding  with  fish :  on  one  of 
its  branches  is  found  the  famous  red  clay  of  which  the 
Indians  make  thc'r  calumets.  We  saw  on  the  banks  of 
the  river  several  Indian  canoe  frames,  formed  of  bent 
sticks  made  into  a  circle,  the  edges  fastened  together  by  a 
long  pole  or  stick,  with  another  one  in  the  bottom,  hold- 
ing the  frame  like  the  inner  keel  of  a  boat.  Outside  of 
this  frame  the  Indians  stretch  a  buffalo-skin  with  the  hair 
on,  and  it  is  said  to  make  a  safe  boat  to  convey  two  or 
three  persons,  even  when  the  current  is  rapid.  Here,  as 
well  as  on  the  shores  of  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri,  the 
land  along  the  river  banks  is  higher  than  further  inland  j 
tangled  brushwood  and  tall  reeds  grov/  along  the  margins, 
while  the  prairies  abound  with  mud  and  mud  vater. 
Willows  are  plenty,  and  the  general  aspect  of  th^  _.^antry 
is  pleasing. 

"  May  1 6.  Came  to  an  Indian  log-cabin,  which  had  a 
fence  enclosure  around  it.  Passed  several  dead  buffaloes 
floating  down  the  stream.  A  few  hundred  miles  above 
here  the  river  is  confined  between  high  steep  bluffs,  many 
of  them  nearly  perpendicular,  and  impossible  for  the  buf- 
falo to  climb  :  when  they  have  leaped  or  fallen  down 
these,  they  try  to  ascend  them  or  swim  to  the  opposite 
shore,  which  is  equally  difficult ;  but  unable  to  ascend 
them,  they  fall  back  time  and  again  until  they  are  ex- 
hausted ;  and  at  last,  getting  into  the  current,  are  borne 
away  and  drowned  :  hundreds  thus  perish  every  year,  and 
their  swollen  and  putrid  bodies  have  been  seen  floating  as 
low  down  as  St.  Louis.  The  Indians  along  shore  watch 
for  these  carcasses,  and  no  matter  how  putrid  they  are,  if 
the  *  hump '  is  fat,  they  drag  them  ashore  and  cut  it  out 
for  food." 


Indian  Life, 


423 


Many  pages  of  the  Journal  describe  the  daily  inci 
dents  of  the  next  ft'vv  weeks,  in  which  the  party  were  slow 
ly  pushing  their  way  up  the  river,  and  making  occasional 
excursions  from  the  boat  in  pursuit  of  the  objects  of  thev 
journey.  The  country  was  inundated  in  many  places, 
and  from  the  tops  of  the  neighboring  hills  it  is  repre- 
sented as  about  equally  divided  between  land  and  water  ; 
on  the  eastern  side  of  the  river  the  flat  prairies  had  be- 
come great  lakes.  And  they  noticed  that  the  floating  ice 
had  cut  the  trees  on  the  banks  of  the  river  as  high  as 
the  shoulder  of  a  man.  Barges  from  above  passed  them, 
bringing  down  the  spoils  of  the  hunters,  and  one  from  St. 
Pierre  had  ten  thousand  bufiiilo-robes  on  board.  The 
men  reported  that  the  country  aboye  was  filled  with  buf- 
faloes, and  the  shores  of  the  river  were  covered  with 
the  dead  bodies  of  old  and  y  ung  ones. 

As  they  ascended  they  found  the  river  more  shallow 
in  some  parts,  and  again  opening  into  broad  places  like 
great  lagoons.  They  passed  Vermillion  River,  a  small 
stream  running  out  of  muddy  bnnks  filled  with  willows. 
At  a  landing  near  there,  a  man  told  them  that  a  hunter  had 
recently  killed  an  Indian  chief  near  the  foot  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  that  it  would  be  dangerous  for  white  men 
to  visit  that  region. 

They  also  found  on  the  river's  bank  the  plant  called 
the  white  apple,  much  used  by  the  Indians  for  food, 
which  they  dry,  pound,  and  make  into  mash.  It  is  more 
of  a  potato  than  apple,  for  it  grows  six  inches  under 
ground,  is  about  the  size  of  a  hen's  egg,  covered  with  a 
dark-brown  woody  hard  skin  the  sixteenth  of  an  inch 
thick :  the  fruit  is  easily  drawn  from  the  skin,  and  is  of  a 
whitish  color.  It  has  no  flowers,  the  roots  were  woody, 
leaves  ovate  and  attached  in  fives.  When  dry,  the  apple 
is  hard  as  wood,  and  has  to  be  pounded  for  use. 

The  country  grew  poorer  the  farther  they  ascended 


ij 


4: 


4   *• 


;r? 


H? 


424 


Life  of  Audubon, 


the  river ;  and  the  bluffs  showed  traces  of  iron,  sulphur, 
and  magnesia. 

"  May  28.  We  now  see  buffaloes  every  day :  they 
are  extremely  poor,  but  they  are  sporting  among  them- 
selves, beating  and  tearing  up  the  earth.  They  have 
roads  to  the  river,  along  which  they  go  and  come  for  wa- 
ter. 

"  To-day  some  Indians  hailed  us  from  the  shore,  and 
when  the  captain  refused  to  stop  for  them,  they  began  fir- 
ing at  us  with  rifles :  several  of  the  balls  hit  our  vessel, 
and  one  passed  through  the  pantaloons  of  a  Scotch  pas- 
senger. These  rascals  belong  to  a  party  of  the  Santeo 
tribe,  which  range  across  the  country  from  the  Missouri 
to  the  Mississippi  River. 

"  May  29.  This  morning  a  party  of  Indians  came  on 
board  the  boat  at  a  landing-place,  and  it  was  some  hours 
before  we  could  get  rid  of  these  beggars  by  trade.  Both 
banks  of  the  river  were  covered  with  buffaloes,  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  see  ;  and  although  many  of  them  were  near 
the  water,  they  did  not  move  until  we  were  close  upon 
them,  and  those  at  the  distance  of  half  a  mile  kept  on 
quietly  grazing.  We  saw  several  buffaloes  and  one  large 
gray  wolf  swimming  across  the  river  only  a  short  distance 
ahead  of  us. 

"  The  prairies  appear  better  now,  and  the  grass  looks 
green,  and  the  poor  buffaloes,  of  which  we  have  seen  more 
than  two  thousand  this  morning,  will  soon  grow  fat. 

"May  30.  We  reached  Fort  George  this  morning, 
which  is  called  'The  Station  of  the  Opposition  Line.' 
We  saw  some  Indians,  and  a  few  lodges  on  the  edge  of 
the  prairie,  and  sundry  bales  of  buffalo-robes  were  taken 
aboard.  Major  Hamilton  is  acting  Indian  Agent  during 
the  absence  of  Major  Crisp.  We  are  a  long  way  beyond 
the  reach  of  civil  law,  and  they  settle  disputes  here  with 
sword  and  pistol.     The  major  pointed  to  an  island  wher« 


At  St,  Pierre, 


4^5 


ilphur, 

r:  they 

them- 

|r  have 

for  wa- 

•e,  and 

gan  fir- 
vessel, 

ch  pas- 
Santeo 

Missouri 

;ame  on 
le  hours 
:.  Both 
;  far  as 
ere  near 
se  upon 
kept  on 
ne  large 
distance 

Lss  looks 
en  more 
fat. 

norning, 
n  Line.' 
edge  of 
re  taken 
it  during 
^  beyond 
ere  with 
id  wher« 


Mr. ,  a  New  Yorker  belonging  to  the  opposition  line, 

killed  two  white  men  recently,  and  shot  two  others,  who 
were  miserable  miscreants. 

"  We  are  yet  thirty  miles  below  St.  Pierre,  and  do  not 
expect  to  reach  it  until  to-morrow.  Indians  were  seen 
along  both  sides  of  the  river :  many  trade  at  this  post  and 
at  St.  Pierre ;  at  the  latter  I  am  told  there  are  five  hun- 
dred lodges.  The  Indian  dogs  resemble  the  wolves  so 
much  that  I  should  readily  mistake  the  one  for  the  other 
were  I  to  meet  them  in  the  woods. 

"  Soon  after  leaving  Fort  George,  we  sounded  and 
found  only  three  and  a  half  feet  of  water,  and  the  cfiptain 
gave  orders  to  '  tie  up,'  and  we  started  on  a  walk  f  .u"  St. 
Pierre.  On  reaching  the  camp,  we  found  it  a  strcngly- 
built  low  log-cabin,  in  which  was  a  Mr.  Cutting,  who  had 
met  my  son  Victor  in  Cuba.  Yesterday,  while  he  was 
on  a  buffalo-hunt,  a  cow  hooked  his  horse,  and  threw  him 
about  twenty  feet,  and  injured  his  ankle.  This  he 
thought  remarkable,  as  the  cow  had  not  been  wounded. 
He  showed  me  a  petrified  heatl  of  a  wolf,  which  I  dis- 
covered to  be  not  a  wolfs  but  a  beaver's.  There  were 
fifteen  lodges  here,  a.nd  a  great  number  of  squaws  and 
half-breed  children ;  and  these  are  .accounted  for  by  the 
fact  that  every  clerk  and  agent  has  his  Indian  wife  as  she 
is  called. 

yune  I.  The  party  had  arrived  at  St.  Pierre,  and  fi-om 
thence  the  Omega,  in  which  they  had  made  their  trip,  was 
expected  to  return  to  St.  Louis.  The  Journal  continues : 
"  I  am  somewhat  surprised  that  Sprague  asked  me  to  al- 
low him  to  return  in  the  Omega.  I  told  him  he  was  at 
liberty  to  do  so  of  course  if  he  desired  it,  though  it  will 
cause  me  double  the  labor  I  expected  to  have.  Had  I 
known  this  before  leaving  New  York,  I  could  have  had 
any  number- of  young  artists,  who  would  have  been  glad 
to  have  accompanied  and  remained  with  me  to  the  end  of 
the  expedition. 


I 


i 


« 


426 


Life  of  Audubon. 


r; 


"  yun  2.  We  have  left  St  Pierre  and  are  going  on  up 
the  river,  deeper  and  deeper  in  the  wilderness.  We 
passed  the  Cheyenne  River,  which  is  quite  a  large 
stream." 

Audubon  hired  a  hunter  named  Alexis  Bouibarde  at 
St,  Pierre  to  accompany  him  to  the  Yellow-stone  River, 
and  thus  describes  him :  *  He  is  a  first-rate  hunter,  pow- 
erfully built,  is  a  half-breed,  and  wears  his  hair  loose 
about  his  head  and   shoulders,  as  I  formerly   did.  .  .  .' 

"  I  am  now  astonished  at  the  poverty  of  the  bluffs 
we  pass  :  there  are  no  more  of  the  beautiful  limestone 
formations  which  we  saw  below,  but  they  all  appear  to 
be  poor  and  crumbling  clay,  dry  and  hard  now,  but  soft 
and  sticky  whenever  it  rains.  The  cedars  in  the  ravines, 
which  below  were  fine  and  thrifty,  are  generally  dead  or 
dying,  probably  owing  to  their  long  inundation.  To-day 
we  have  made  sixty  miles ;  the  country  is  much  poorer 
than  any  we  have  passed  below,  and  the  sand-bars  are 
much  more  intricate. 

"  yune  4.  The  country  we  have  seen  to-day  is  a  little 
better  than  what  we  saw  yesterday.  We  passed  the  old 
Riccaree  village,  where  General  Ashley  was  beaten  by 
the  Indians,  and  lost  eighteen  of  his  men,  with  the  very 
weapons  and  ammunition  he  had  sold  the  Indians, 
against  the  remonstrances  of  his  friends  and  the  inter- 
preter. It  is  said  that  it  proved  fortunate  for  him,  for  he 
turned  his  course  in  another  direction,  where  he  pur- 
chased one  hundred  packs  of  beaver-skins  for  a  mere  song. 

"  Passed  the  Square  Hills,  so  called  because  they  are 
more  level  and  less  rounded  than  the  majority  of  the 
hills.  From  the  boat  the  country  looks  as  if  we  were  get- 
ting above  the  line  of  vegetation  ;  the  flowers  nre  scarce, 
and  the  oaks  have  hardly  any  leaves  on  them.  We  are 
now  sixteen  miles  below  the  Mandan  village,  and  hope 
to  reach  there  to-morrow. 


A  ^'Medicine*'  Lodge, 


427 


**  yune  7.  We  are  now  at  Fort  Clark  and  the  Mandan 
village  ;  a  salute  was  fired  fi-om  the  Fort  in  honor  of  our 
arrival,  and  we  answered  it.  The  Fort  is  situated  on  a 
high  bank,  quite  a  hill  ;  here  the  Mandans  have  their 
mud  huts,  which  are  not  very  picturesque,  a'-d  a  few  en- 
closed fields,  where  they  grow  corn,  pumpkins,  and 
beans.  We  saw  more  Indians  here  than  at  any  other 
place  since  we  left  St.  Louis  ;  they  have  about  one  hun- 
dred huts,  and  they  resemble  the  potato  winter-houses 
in  our  Southern  and  Eastern  States.  As  we  approached 
the  shore,  every  article  that  could  be  taken  conveniently 
was  removed  from  the  deck  and  put  under  lock  and  key, 
and  all  the  cabin-doors  were  closed.  The  captain  told 
me  that  last  year,  when  he  was  here,  the  Indians  stole 
his  cap,  shot-pouch,  hone,  and  such  like  things.  These  peo- 
ple appeared  very  miserable ;  as  we  approached  the  land- 
ing they  stood  shivering  in  the  rain,  wrapped  in  buffalo- 
robes  and  red  blankets  ;  some  of  them  were  curiously  be- 
smeared with  mud.  They  came  on  board,  and  several 
shook  me  by  the  hand,  but  their  hands  had  a  clammi- 
ness that  was  quite  repulsive  ;  their  legs  were  naked,  feet 
covered  with  mud  ;  and  they  stared  at  me  with  apparent 
curiosity  because  of  my  long  beard,  which  also  attracted 
tlie  Indians  at  St.  Pierre.  It  is  estimated  that  there  are 
three  thousand  men,  women,  and  children,  who  cram 
themselves  into  these  miserable  houses  in  winter  ;  they 
are  said  to  be  the  ne plus  ultra  of  tliieves,  and  most  of  the 
women  are  destitute  of  virtue. 

"  At  the  request  of  the  interpreter,  one  of  the  Indians 
took  me  into  the  village  to  see  the  Medicine  lodge.  I 
followed  my  guide  through  mud  and  mire  to  a  large  hut, 
built  like  all  the  rest,  but  measuring  twenty-three  yards 
in  diameter,  with  a  large  square  opening  in  the  centre  of 
the  roof  six  feet  long  by  four  feet  in  width.  We  entered 
this  curiosity-shop  by  pushing  aside  an  elk-skin  stretched 


A28 


Life  of  Auduhon, 


li  u 


on  four  sticks.  Among  the  medicines  1  saw  a  number  of 
calabooses,  eight  or  ten  skulls  of  otters,  two  large  buffalo- 
skulls  with  the  horns  on,  some  sticks,  and  other  magical 
implements,  with  the  use  of  which  no  one  but  a  great 
Medicine  is  acquainted.  There  lay  crouched  on  the  floor 
a  lousy  Indian,  wrapped  in  a  dirty  blanket,  wl^h  nothing 
but  his  head  sticking  out :  the  guide  spoke  to  him,  but 
he  made  no  reply.  At  the  foot  of  one  of  the  props  that 
support  this  large  house  lay  a  parcel,  which  I  took  for  a 
bundle  of  buffalo-robes,  but  directly  it  moved,  and  the 
emaciated  body  of  a  poor  blind  Indian  crept  out  of  it  \ 
he  was  shrivelled,  and  the  guide  made  signs  that  he  was 
about  to  die.  We  shook  hands  with  him,  and  he  pressed 
mine,  as  if  glad  of  the  sympathy  of  even  a  stranger ;  he 
had  a  pipe  and  tobacco-box,  and  soon  lay  down  again. 
As  we  left  this  abode  of  mysteries,  I  told  the  guide  I  was 
anxious  to  see  the  inside  of  one  of  their  common  dwell- 
ings, and  he  led  us  through  the  mud  to  his  own  lodge, 
which  had  an  entrance  like  the  other.  All  the  lodges 
have  a  sort  of  portico  that  leads  to  the  door,  and  on  the 
top  of  most  of  them  I  observed  skulls  of  buffaloes.  This 
lodge  contained  the  wife  and  children  of  the  guide  and 
another  man,  whom  I  took  for  his  son-in-law  ;  all  these, 
except  the  man,  were  in  the  outer  lodge,  squatting  on  the 
ground,  and  the  children  skulked  out  of  the  way  as  we 
approached.  Nearly  equi-distant  from  each  other  were  a 
kind  of  berths,  raised  two  feet  above  the  ground,  made  of 
leather,  and  with  square  apertures  for  the  sleepers.  The 
man  of  whom  I  have  spoken  was  lying  down  in  one  of 
these.  I  walked  up  to  him,  and  after  disturbing  his  seem- 
ingly happy  slumbers,  shook  his  hand,  and  he  made  signs 
for  me  to  sit  down.  I  did  so,  and  he  arose,  and  squatted 
himself  near  us ;  and  taking  a  large  spoon  made  of  a 
buffalo's  horn,  handed  it  to  a  young  girl,  who  brought  a 
large  wooden  bowl  filled  with  pemmican  mixed  with  com 


An  Indian  Con  ciL 


429 


and  some  other  stuff ;  I  ate  a  mou  Jiful  .^f  it,  and  found 
it  quite  palatable.  Both  loclges  W2re  alme  dirty  with  wa- 
ter and  mud ;  but  I  am  told  that  in  drj'  limes  they  are  kepi 
more  cleanly.  A  round  shallow  hole  was  in  the  centre, 
and  a  chain  hung  from  above  near  the  fire,  and  on  this 
they  hang  their  meat  and  cook.  On  leaving  I  gave  our 
guide  a  small  piece  of  tobacco,  and  he  seemed  well  pleas- 
ed, but  followed  us  on  board  the  boat :  and  as  he  passed 
my  room,  and  saw  my  specimens  of  stuffed  animals  and 
birds,  manifested  some  curiosity  to  see  them. 

"  The  general  appearance  of  the  fort  is  poor,  and  the 
country  around  is  overgrown  with  the  weed  called  *  family 
quarter.'  And  I  saw  nothmg  here  corresponding  to  the 
poetical  descriptions  of  writers  who  make  their  clay-banks 
enchanted  castles,  and  this  wretched  savage  life  a  thing 
to  be  desired,  even  by  the  most  happy  civilized  men. 
These  Indians  are  mostly  Ricarees  ;  they  are  tall,  lank, 
and  redder  than  most  others  that  I  have  seen,  but  they 
are  all  miserable-looking  and  dirty.  They  occupy  the 
village  where  the  powerful  tribe  of  Mandans  once  lived, 
but  which  were  swept  away  by  the  dreadful  scourge  of  the 
small-pox ;  only  twelve  or  fifteen  families  survive,  and 
they  removed  three  miles  up  the  river. 

"  yune  8.  To-day  we  have  had  a  famous  Indian  cour.- 
cil  on  board  our  boat  It  consisted  of  thirty-four  Indians 
of  the  first  class  ;  they  squatted  on  their  rumps  on  both 
sides  of  our  long  cabin,  and  received  refreshments  of 
coffee  and  ship-bread,  and  I  assisted  in  doing  this  duty ; 
and  a  box  of  tobacco  was  then  opened  and  placed  on  the 
table  ;  the  captain  then  made  a  speech  to  ^hem,  and  one 
Indian  interpreted  it  to  the  others.  They  frequently  ex- 
pressed their  approbation  by  grunting^  und  were  e^/ident- 
ly  much  pleased.  Two  Indians  came  in,  dresserl  in  blue 
uniforms,  with  epaulettes  on  their  shoulders,  anri  feather* 
in  their  caps,  and  with  ornamented  mocassins  and  leg* 


430 


Life  of  Audubon. 


gings  :  these  were  the  braves  of  the  tribe,  and  they  did 
not  grunt  or  shake  hands  with  any  of  us. 

"  As  soon  as  the  tobacco  was  distributed,  the  whole 
company  rose  simultaneously,  and  we  shook  hands  with 
each  one,  and  gladly  bid  them  good  riddance.  The  two 
braves  waited  until  all  the  others  were  on  shore,  and  then 
retired  majestically  as  they  had  entered,  not  shakiiig 
hands  even  with  the  captain,  wlio  had  entertained  them 
and  made  the  speech.  This  is  a  ceremony  which  takes 
place  yearly  as  the  Company's  boat  goes  up.  Each  In- 
dian carried  away  about  two  pouncia  of  tobacco.  Two 
of  the  Indians  who  distributed  the  tobacco,  and  were  of 
the  highest  rank,  were  nearly  naked,  and  one  by  my  side 
had  only  a  clout  and  one  legging  on.  They  are  now  all 
gone  but  one,  who  goes  with  us  to  the  Yellow- stone  River. 

"This  morning  the  thermometer  stood  at  37°.  We 
have  passed  the  village  of  the  poor  Mandans,  and  of  the 
Grosventres,  to-day:  the  latter  is  cut  off  from  the  river 
by  an  enormous  sand-bar,  now  covered  with  willows.  We 
saw  a  few  Indian  corn-fields  ;  the  plants  were  sickly-look- 
ing, and  about  two  inches  high.  The  prairies  are  very 
extensive,  stretching  away  to  the  hills,  and  there  are  deep 
ravines  in  them  filled  with  water  sufficiently  saline  to  be 
used  by  the  Indians  for  seasoning  their  food. 

''^  June  13.  Fort  Union.  Thermometer  53°,  72°,  68°. 
We  arrived  here  to-day,  and  have  made  the  shortest  trip 
from  St.  Louis  on  record,  just  forty-eight  days.  We  have 
landed  our  effects,  and  established  ourselves  in  a  log- 
house,  with  one  room  and  one  window,  intending  to  spend 
three  weeks  here  before  launching  into  the  wilderness. 

"  There  has  been  no  ardent  spirits  sold  here  for  two 
years,  and  the  result  is,  the  Indians  are  more  peaceable 
than  formerly.  On  the  plains  we  saw  the  mounds  where 
many  Indians  had  been  buried  who  died  here  of  the 
small-pox.    There  were  apparently  several  bodies  in  eac? 


Small-pox  Among  the  Indians,  43 1 


they  did 

le  whole 
nds  \^'lth 
The  two 
and  then 

shakiiig 
led  them 
ich  takes 
Each  In- 
:o.    Two 
I  were  of 
J  my  side 
e  now  all 
)ne  River. 
37°.     We 
ind  of  the 
the  river 
ows.    We 
ckly-look- 

are  very 
!  are  deep 
ine  to  be 

72°,  68°. 
jrtest  trip 
We  have 
in  a  log- 
to  spend 
erness. 

for  two 
peaceable 
ids  where 
re  of  the 
es  in  eacl" 


mound,  and  a  buffalo's  skull  was  put  over  each  one :  this 
relic  has  some  superstitious  value  in  the  estimation  of 
these  poor  ignorant  creatures. 

"  Our  boat  has  been  thronged  with  these  dirty  savages 
ever  since  we  fastened  her  to  the  landing,  and  it  is  with 
difficulty  we  can  keep  them  from  our  rooms.  All  around 
the  village  the  filth  is  beyond  description,  and  the  sights 
daily  seen  will  not  bear  recording ;  they  have  dispelled 
all  the  romance  of  Indian  life  I  ever  had,  and  I  am  satis- 
fied that  all  the  poetry  about  Indians  is  contained  iii 
books ;  there  certainly  is  none  in  their  wild  life  in  the 
woods.  The  captain  of  our  vessel  told  me  that  on  his 
first  trip  here  in  a  steamer,  the  Indians  called  her  a  great 
'  Medicine,'  supposed  that  he  fed  her  with  whisky,  and  ask- 
ed, how  much  he  gave  her  at  a  time.  To  which  he  repli- 
ed, *  a  whole  barrel.' " 

It  appears  that  the  Omega  did  not,  as  originally  in- 
tended, return  from  St.  Pierre,  but  kept  on  to  the  Yellow- 
stone River.  There  Audubon  bade  the  captain  adiei% 
with  much  regret,  and  wi^te  him  a  <.omplimentary  letter, 
which  all  the  passengers  signed. 

"  yune  14.  To-day,  Mr.  Choutea  1,  and  Mr.  Murray,  a 
Scotchman,  arrived  from  the  Crow  I  idian  nation.  They 
told  me  the  snow  was  yet  thvee  feet  aeep,  and  quite 
abundant  near  the  mountains.  I  learned  to-day,  that  the 
Prince  of  Canino,  with  his  secretary  and  bird-stuffer,  oc- 
cupied the  looms  I  now  have,  for  two  months." 

The  interval  between  this  and  the  20th  of  June  was 
employed  in  various  excursions  and  exciting  hunts  after 
the  buffalo. 

yune  20.  A  stormy  day  prevents  out-door  excursions, 
and  Audubon  employs  it  in  recording  in  his  ^  jrnal  an 
account  of  the  ravages  of  the  small-pox  among  the  Indi- 
ans, which  he  received  from  an  eye-witness.  The  Man- 
dans  and  Ricarees  suffered  most,  though  many  Sioux  anc 
Blackfoot  Indians  perished  with  them. 


+3* 


Life  of  Audubon, 


\m 


"  Early  in  the  spring  of  1837  the  steamer  Assiniboine 
arrived  at  Fort  Clark,  with  several  cases  o^'  small-pox  on 
board.  There  an  Indian  stole  a  blanket  belonging  to  a 
watchman  on  the  boat^  who  was  then  at  the  point  of  death, 
and  took  it  away  to  sow  the  seeds  of  this  disease  among 
his  tribe,  which  caused  his  own  death  and  the  death  of 
tliousands  of  his  nation.  When  it  was  known  that  he 
had  taken  it,  a  benevolent  person  on  the  boat  went  to  one 
of  the  chiefs,  told  him  the  fatal  consequences  which  would 
follow,  and  offered  to  give  a  new  blanket  and  a  reward 
besides  if  he  would  have  it  returned  ;  but  suspicion,  fear, 
or  shame  prevented  the  man  from  giving  it  up,  and  the 
pestilent  e  broke  out  and  began  to  spread  among  the 
Mandans  at  first,  to  which  nation  the  thief  belonged. 

"  Most  of  the  Indians  were  distant  eighty  miles  at 
that  time  killing  buffaloes  and  preparing  their  winter  food  ; 
and  the  whites  sent  an  express  begging  them  not  to  re- 
turn to  their  villages,  and  telJing  them  what  would  be  the 
fatal  consequences.  The  Indians  sent  back  word  that 
their  corn  was  suffering  to  be  worked,  and  that  they  would 
return  and  face  the  danger,  which  they  thought  was  fab- 
ulous. Word  was  again  sent  them  that  certain  destruc- 
tion would  attend  their  return ;  but  it  was  all  in  vain,  come 
back  they  would,  and  come  back  they  did,  and  the  plague 
began  in  its  most  malignant  form,  their  habits  and  im- 
proper food  making  them  a  ready  prey,  and  a  few  hours 
sometimes  terminating  the  loathsome  disease  by  death. 

"  The  Mandans  were  enraged  because  at  first  it  was 
confined  to  them,  and  they  supposed  the  whites  had 
caused  it,  and  saved  themselves  and  the  Ricarees  from 
the  pestilence  ;  and  they  threatened  the  lives  of  all  the 
former,  supposing  they  had  a  medicine  to  prevent  it, 
which  they  would  not  give  them.  But  by-and-by  Rica 
rees  and  whites  died  also;  the  disease  increased  iit 
malignity — hundreds  died  daily,  and  their  bodies  were 


1 


siiiiboine 
ll-pox  on 
jing  to  a 
of  death, 
se  among 
death  of 
I  that  he 
>nt  to  one 
ich  would 
a  reward 
cion,  fear, 
,  and  the 
imong  the 
jnged. 
^  miles  at 
Inter  food  j 
not  to  re- 
Duld  be  the 
word  that 
they  would 
It  was  fab- 
n  destruc- 
.  vain,  come 
the  plague 
ts  and  im- 
few  hours 
by  death, 
first  it  was 
A^hites  had 
:arees  from 
of  all  the 
prevent  it, 
id-by  Rica 
icreased  ib 
[>dies  were 


Extermination  of  the  Mandans,         433 

thrown  beneath  the  bluffs,  and  created  an  intolerable 
stench,  which  added  to  its  fatality.  Men  shot  each  other 
when  they  found  they  were  attacked  :  one  man  killed  his 
wife  and  children,  and  then  loaded  his  gun  and  placing 
the  muzzle  in  his  mouth,  touched  the  trigger  with  his  toe 
and  blew  out  his  own  brains.  One  young  chief  made  his 
friends  dig  a  grave  for  him,  and  putting  on  his  war-robes, 
he  tottered  out  to  it,  singing  his  death-son^*,  and  jumping 
in,  cut  his  body  nearly  in  two  with  a  knife,  and  was  bu- 
ried there ;  and  others  committed  suicide  after  they  were 
attacked,  rather  than  die  of  the  loathsome  disease.  The 
annals  of  pestilence  do  not  furnish  another  such  example 
of  horrors,  or  where  the  mortality  was  so  great  in  propor- 
tion to  the  population  :  of  the  once  powerful  tribe  of  Man* 
dans  only  twenty-seven  persons  remained,  and  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  persons  perished,  and  the  details 
are  too  horrible  to  relate.  Added  to  this,  the  few  whites 
were  alarmed  lest  the  Indians  should  massacre  them  as 
the  cause  of  the  evil.  One  influential  chief  attempted  to 
instigate  the  Indians  to  kill  all  the  whites,  but  he  was  him- 
self seized  and  died  before  his  plans  were  matured ;  but 
in  his  last  moments  he  confessed  his  wickedness,  and  ex- 
pressed sorrow  for  it,  and  begged  th«it  his  body  might  be 
laid  before  the  gate  of  the  fort  until  it  was  buried,  with 
the  superstitious  belief  that  if  this  were  done  the  white 
man  would  always  think  of  hun  and  forgive  his  meditated 


n 


crime. 

The  Journal  is  taken  \xr  witil  the  end  of  July  with 
narratives  of  almost  daily  excursions  in  various  directions 
in  search  of  all  kinds  of  game.  Many  anecdotes  are  re- 
lated of  the  Indians,  their  mode  of  life,  habits,  and  pecu- 
liarities, most  of  which  have  been  described  by  other 
writers,  and  hardly  merit  repeating  here.  Audubon 
found  this  region  so  rich  in  novelties  of  the  kinds  he  had 


434 


Life  of  Audubon, 


come  in  pursuit  of,  that  lie  was  anxious  tiiat  some  of  the 
young  men  of  his  party  should  remain  through  the  winter 
"  My  regrets  that  I  cannpt  remain  myself  are  beyond  de 
scription,  and  I  now  sadly  regret  that  I  promised  you  al 
that  I  would  return  home  this  Fall. 

"  August  3.  We  observed  yesterday  for  the  first  time 
that  the  atmosphere  wore  the  hazy  appearance  of  the  In* 
dian  summer.  The  nights  and  mornings  are  cool,  and 
summer  clothes  are  beginning  to  be  uncomfortable." 

This  seems  to  have  caused  Audubon  to  begin  to  think 
seriously  of  turning  his  course  homeward.  The  exposure 
and  hardships  he  had  encountered  in  this  long  journey, 
and  on  his  hunting  excursions,  had  made  an  impression 
on  his  health. 

He  began  to  find  that  his  age  was  telling  on  his  ener« 
gy,  and  that  he  could  not  endure  hardships  as  formerly. 

The  Journal  continues  for  ten  days  more,  then  abruptl]^ 
ends,  from  which  we  conclude  that  the  writer  began  t'/ 
make  preparations  to  return  home.  He  reached  Ne\i 
York  eaily  in  October,  1843. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

Audubon's  Last  Days  —  His  Habits  —  Lcrve  of  Music  —  Description 
of  Audubon  Park  —  His  I. Unary  (jitd  Studio — Visitors  —  /  »• 
hibition  of  Dra'ivirii^s — Mental  Gloaming — Loss  of  Sight -^ 
The  Naturalises  Death  and  Funeral. 

HEN  Audubon  returned  from  his  expedition  to 
the  Western  Prairies,  he  was  between  sixty  and 
seventy  years  old,  yet  he  began  at  once  to  work 
with  his  usual  energy  and  diligence.  In  a  little  more  than 
two  years  appeared  the  first  volume  of  the  "  Quadrupeds 
of  North  America ; "  and  this  was  almost  his  last  work. 
The  second  volume  was  prepared  mostly  by  his  sons  Vic- 
tor and  John,  and  was  published  the  year  their  father 
died. 

The  interval  of  about  three  years  which  passed  be- 
tween the  time  of  Audubon's  return  from  the  West  and 
the  period  when  his  mind  began  to  fail,  was  a  short  and 
sweet  twilight  to  his  adventurous  career.  His  habits 
were  simple.  Rising  almost  with  the  sun,  he  proceeded 
to  the  woods  to  view  his  feathered  favorites  till  the  hour 
at  which  the  family  usually  breakfasted,  except  when  he 
had  drawing  to  r]o,  when  he  sat  closely  to  his  work.  Af- 
ter breakfast  he  drew  till  noon  and  then  took  a  long  walk. 
At  nine  in  the  evening  he  generally  retired. 

He  was  now  an  old  man,  and  the  fire  which  had  burn- 
ed so  steadily  in  his  heart  was  going  out  gradually.  Yet 
there  are  but  few  things  in  his  life  more  interesting  and 
beautiful  than  the  tranquil  happiness  he  enjoyed  in  the 
bosom  of  his  family,  with  his  two  sons  and  their  children 


^3^ 


Life  of  Audubon, 


under  the  same  roof,  in  the  short  interval  between  his  re* 
turn  from  his  last  earthly  expedition,  and  the  time  when 
his  sight  and  mind  began  to  grow  dim,  until  mental 
gloaming  settled  on  him,  before  the  night  of  death  came 
He  was  very  fond  of  his  grandchildren,  and  used  often  to 
take  them  on  his  knees  and  sing  to  them  amusing  French 
songs  that  he  had  learned  in  France  when  he  was  a  boy. 

His  loss  of  sight  was  quite  peculiar  in  its  character. 
His  glasses  enabled  him  to  see  objects  and  to  read,  long 
after  his  eye  was  unable  to  find  a  focus  on  the  canvas. 
The  first  day  he  found  that  he  could  not  adjust  his  glass- 
es so  as  to  enable  him  to  work  at  the  accustomed  dis* 
tance  from  the  object  before  him,  he  drooped.  Silent, 
patient  sorrow  filled  his  broken  heart.  From  that  time 
his  wife  never  left  him  ;  she  read  to  him,  walked  with  him, 
and  toward  the  last  she  fed  him.  Bread  and  milk  were 
his  breakfast  and  supper,  and  at  noon  he  ate  a  little  fish 
or  game,  never  having  eaten  animal  food  if  he  could 
avoid  it. 

He  took  great  pleasure  in  listening  to  reading  and  to 
the  singing  of  one  of  his  daughters-in-law,  who  had  an 
exceedingly  sweet  a  !  well  cultivatec  voice.  He  found 
much  amusement  too  in  walking  through  his  grounds. 
His  home,  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  was  just  such 
a  spot  as  a  lover  of  Nature  would  choose  for  his  closing 
days.  It  was  a  piece  of  land  extending  from  where  the 
Ter.'jh  Avenne  now  is,  to  the  river;  it  contained  twenty- 
four  acres,  about  half  of  which  was  high  level  ground,  the 
other  half  a  gradual  slope  to  t/ie  river.  There  was  no 
Hudson  River  Railroad  then,  and  the  waves  dashed 
upon  the  sandy  beach  near  the  house.  From  a  little  pro- 
jection called  The  Point,  there  was  a  beautifiil  and  exten- 
sive view  down  the  river  ;  the  view  towards  the  north  was 
obstructed  by  Fort  Washington.  On  the  hill  were  corn- 
fields and  a  peach  orchard,  and  two  or  three  little  cot- 


Audubon  Park. 


437 


tages  where  the  men  lived  who  worked  on  the  place.  In 
the  valley  were  the  dwelling-house,  a  large  barn  and  sta- 
ble, and  a  little  cottage  where  the  coachman  lived  with 
his  wife  and  family.  A  beautiful  little  stream  ran  through 
the  grounds,  widening  out  in  one  place  into  a  pond,  at  the 
lower  end  of  which  was  a  waterfall  tlve  or  six  feet  high 
and  very  broad ;  the  water  fell  into  another  pond,  and 
below  that  the  brook  divided  into  two  pans,  forming  a 
little  island.  Just  before  the  brook  reached  the  river,  it 
was  crossed  by  a  picturesque  bridge  which  was  quite  an 
ornament  to  the  scene.  This  estate  he  named  Minnie's 
Land,  Minnie,  the  Scotch  word  for  mother,  being  the 
name  by  which  he  generally  addre^jed  his  wife,  and  to 
her  he  left  the  whole  of  it  at  his  death. 

About  half  of  this  beautiful  place  forms  what  is  now 
called  "  Audubon  Park,"  so  named  by  some  of  the  gen- 
tlemen, friends  of  the  Audubon  family,  who  resided  there 
after  the  naturalist's  death  ;  but  no  one  would  recognize 
the  spot ;  where  formerly  there  was  but  one  dwelling- 
house,  there  are  now  about  forty.  The  portion  called 
Audubon  Park  contains  abc»ve  a  dozen  houses,  and  though 
it  is  still  very  beautiful,  there  is  of  course  a  total  change 
in  the  arrangement  of  the  grounds,  and  the  very  house 
Mr.  Audubon  lived  in,  is  so  metamorphosed  that  he 
would  scarcely  recognize  it  for  the  one  that  once  was 
his. 

Parke  Godwin,  who  visited  Audubon  in  1846, 
gives  us  the  following  picture  of  his  home  :  "  The  house 
was  simple  and  unpretending  in  its  architecture,  and  beau- 
tifully embowered  amid  elms  and  oaks.  Several  graceful 
fawn3,  and  a  noble  elk,  were  stalking  in  the  shade  of  the 
trees,  apparently  unconscious  of  the  presence  of  a  few 
dogs,  and  not  caring  for  the  numerous  turkeys,  geese,  and 
other  domestic  animals  that  gabbled  and  screamed  arouno 
them.     Nor  did  my  own  approach  startle  the  wild,  beau- 


438 


Life  of  Audubon, 


I,  ^ 


tiful  creatures,  that  seemed  as  do'  ile  as  any  of  their  tame 
companioiis. 

"  *  Is  the  master  at  huws "''  1  asked  of  a  pretty  maid- 
servant, who  answered  my  tap  at  the  door  ;  and  who,  a; 
ter  informing  me  that  he  was,  led  me  into  a  room  on  the 
left  side  of  the  broad  hall.  It  was  not,  however,  a  par- 
lor, or  an  ordinary  reception-room  that  I  entered,  but  evi- 
dently a  room  for  work.  In  one  corner  stood  a  painter's 
easel,  witi  a  half  finished  sketch  of  a  beaver  on  the  pa- 
per ;  in  the  other  lay  the  skin  of  an  American  panther. 
The  antlers  of  elks  hung  upon  the  walls ;  stuffed  birds 
of  every  description  of  gay  plumage  ornamented  the 
mantel-piece ;  and  exquisite  drawings  of  field-mice,  ori- 
f)ies,  and  woodpeckers,  were  scattered  promiscuously  in 
other  parts  of  the  room,  across  one  end  of  which  a  long 
rude  table  was  stretched  to  hold  artist  materials,  scraps 
of  drawing-paper,  and  immense  folio  volumes,  filled  with 
delicious  paintings  of  birds  taken  in  their  native  haunts. 

"  *  This,'  said  I  to  myself,  *  is  the  studio  of  the  natu- 
ralist,* but  hardly  had  the  thought  escaped  me,  when  the 
master  himself  made  his  appearance.  He  was  a  tall,  thin 
man,  with  a  high  arched  and  serene  forehead,  and  a  bright 
penetrating  gray  eye ;  his  white  locks  fell  in  clusters  upon 
his  shoulders,  but  were  the  only  signs  of  age,  for  his  form 
was  erect,  and  his  step  as  light  as  that  of  a  deer.  The 
expression  of  his  face  was  sharp,  but  noble  and  com- 
manding, and  there  was  something  in  it,  partly  derived 
from  the  aquiline  nose  and  partly  from  the  shutting  of  the 
mouth,  which  made  you  think  of  the  imperial  eagle. 

"  His  greeting,  as  he  entered,  was  at  once  frank  and 
cordial,  and  showed  you  the  sincere,  true  man.  '  How 
kind  it  is,'  he  said,  with  a  slight  French  accent,  and  in  a 
pensive  tone, '  to  come  to  see  me ;  and  how  wise,  too,  to 
leave  that  crazy  city ! '  He  then  shook  me  warmly  by  the 
hand.    *Do  you  know,'  he  continued,  'how  I  wondei 


His  Last  Days, 


439 


thnt  men  can  onsent  to  swelter  and  fret  their  lives  away 
amid  those  hot  bricks  and  pestilent  vapors,  when  the 
woods  and  fields  are  all  so  near  ?  ,It  would  kill  me  soon 
to  be  confined  in  such  a  prison-house ;  and  when  I  am 
forced  to  make  an  occasional  visit  there,  it  fills  me  with 
loathing  and  sadness.  Ah !  how  often  when  1  have  been 
abroad  on  the  mountains  has  my  heart  risen  in  grateful 
praise  to  God  that  it  was  not  my  destiny  to  waste  and 
pine  among  those  noisome  congregations  of  the  city.* " 

Another  visitor  to  the  naturalist's  happy  home  has 
left  the  following  admirable  description  of  the  sunset  of 
Audubon's  life :  "  In  my  interview  with  the  naturalist, 
there  were  several  things  that  stamped  themselves  indel- 
ibly upon  my  mind.  The  wonderful  simplicity  of  the  man 
was  perhaps  the  most  remarkable.  His  enthusiasm  for 
facts  made  him  unconscious  of  himself.  To  make  him  hap- 
py, you  had  only  to  give  him  a  new  fact  in  natural  history, 
or  introduce  him  to  a  rare  bird.  His  self-forgetfulness 
was  very  impressive.  I  felt  that  I  had  found  a  man 
who  asked  homage  for  God  and  Nature,  and  not  for 
himself. 

"The  unconscious  greatness  of  the  man  seemed  only 
equalled  by  his  cliiid-like  tenderness.  The  sweet  unity 
between  his  wife  and  himself,  as  they  turned  over  the 
original  drawings  of  his  biids,  and  recalled  the  circum- 
stances of  the  drawings,  some  of  which  had  been  made 
when  she  was  with  him  ;  her  quickness  of  perception,  and 
their  mutual  enthusiasm  regarding  these  works  of  his 
heart  and  hand,  and  \hft  tenderness  with  which  they  un- 
consciously treaU'-d  each  other,  all  was  impressed  upon 
my  memory.  Ever  since,  I  have  been  convinced  that 
Audubon  owed  more  t^>  his  wife  than  the  world  knew,  or 
ever  would  know.  That  she  was  always  a  reliance,  often 
a  help,  and  ever  a  sympathising  sister-soul  to  her  noble 
husband,  was  fully  apparent  to  me.     I  was  deeply  im* 


440 


Life  of  Audubon, 


{ 


pressed  with  tlie  wonderiul  character  of  those  original 
drawings. 

"Their  exquisite  beauty  and  life-likeness,  and  the 
feeling  of  life  they  gave  me,  I  have  preserved  in  my 
:nemory ;  and  the  contrast  between  these  impressions 
and  those  of  the  published  works  of  Audubon  is  very 
marked.  The  great  work  recalls  the  feelings  I  then  had, 
but  by  no  means  creates  such  emotions.  The  difference 
is  as  great  as  the  difference  between  the  living  Audubon 
and  his  admirable  picture  by  Cruikshank.  I  looked 
from  him  to  his  picture  in  that  interview.  It  was  the 
naturalist,  and  yet  it  was  not.  There  was  a  venerable 
maturity  in  the  original  that  had  been  gained  since  the 
features  and  the  the  spirit  of  the  young  and  ardent  enthu- 
siast had  been  imprisoned  by  the  artist.  The  picture 
expressed  decidedly  less  than  the  living  man  who  stood 
before  me.  It  had  more  of  youth  and  beauty  and  the 
prophecy  of  greatness,  and  less  of  the  calm  satisfaction 
of  achievement ;  the  sense  of  riches  gained,  not  for  him- 
self, but  for  the  world,  and  less  of  all  that  makes  a  man 
venerable. 

"  I  could  sympathize  with  the  manhood  that  looked 
out  of  the  picture — I  could  find  a  certain  equality  be- 
tween myself  and  the  man  whom  Cruikshank  had  paint- 
ed. I  could  have  followed  him  like  his  dog,  and  carried 
his  gun  and  blanket  like  a  younger  brother ;  but  before 
the  man  Audubon,  who  turned  over  the  drawings,  and 
related  anecdotes  of  one  and  another,  I  could  have  knelt 
in  devotion  and  thankfulness.  He  had  done  his  work. 
He  was  a  hesro,  created  and  approved  by  what  he  had  ac- 
complished, ?nd  I  bowed  my  spirit  before  him  and  asked 
no  endorsement  of  my  hero-worship  of  Carlyle  or  the 
Catholic  Church. 

"  When  I  left,  I  said  to  him,  ^  I  have  seen  Audubon, 
and  I  am  very  thankful' 


His  Last  Days, 


441 


the 
my 


***You  have  seen  a  poor  old  man,'  said  he,  clasping 
my  hand  in  his — and  he  was  then  only  seventy  years  of 
age.  He  had  measured  life  by  what  he  had  done,  and 
he  seemed  to  himself  to  be  old. 

"It  is  hard  to  confine  one's  self  to  dates  and  times 
•rhen  contemplating  such  a  man  as  Audubon.  He  be- 
longs to  all  time.     He  was  bom,  but  he  can  never  die." 

A  few  years  before  Audubon's  death  he  exhibited  in 
Mew  York  his  wonderful  collection  of  drawings,  consist- 
ing '^^  several  thousands  of  animals  and  birds,  all  of 
which  die  naturalist  had  studied  in  their  native  homes, 
all  drawn  of  the  size  of  life  by  his  own  hand,  and  all  rep- 
resented with  their  natural  foliage  around  them.  A  por- 
tion of  this  collection  was  exhibited  in  Edinburgh,  and  as 
Prof  Wilson  has  said  of  the  same  pictures,  the  spectator 
immediately  ^'magined  himself  in  the  forest.  The  birds 
were  all  there, — "  all  were  of  the  size  of  life,  from  the 
wren  and  the  humming-bird  to  the  wild  turkey  and  the 
bird  of  Washington.  But  what  signified  the  mere  size  ? 
The  colors  were  all  of  life  too,  bright  as  when  borne  in 
beaming  beaut}'  through  the  woods.  There  too  were 
their  attitudes  and  postures,  infinite  as  they  are  assumed 
by  the  restless  creatures,  in  motion  or  rest,  in  their  glee 
and  their  gambols,  their  loves  and  their  wars,  singing,  or 
caressing,  or  l  ^ding,  or  preying,  or  tearing  one  another 
to  pieces.  The  trees  on  which  they  sat  or  sported  all 
true  to  nature,  in  bole,  branch,  spray,  and  leaf,  the  flow- 
»rv  shrubs  and  the  ground  flowers,  the  weeds  and  the 
very  grass,  all  American — as  were  the  atmosphere  and 
the  skies.  It  was  a  wild  and  poetical  vision  of  the  heart 
of  the  New  World,  inhabitec  as  yet  ahnost  wholly  by  the 
lovely  or  noble  creatures  that  "  own  not  man's  dominion." 
It  was,  indeed,  a  nch  and  magnificent  -^i^ht,  snrh  as  we 
would  not  for  a  diadem  have  lost" 

**  Surroiinded  "  wrote  Audubon  in  1846,  **  by  all  the 
19* 


442 


Life  of  Audubon, 


members  of  my  dear  family,  enjoying  the  affection  of  nu- 
merous friends,  who  have  never  abandoned  me,  and  pos« 
sessing  a  sufficient  share  of  all  that  contributes  to  make 
life  agreeable,  I  lift  my  grateful  eyes  towards  tlie  Supicmc 
Being  and  feel  that  I  am  happy." 

After  1848  the  naturalist's  mind  entirely  failed  him ,' 
and  during  the  last  years  of  his  life  his  eye  lost  its  bright- 
ness, and  he  had  to  be  led  to  his  daily  walks  by  the  hand 
of  a  servant.  This  continued  until  the  Monday  before 
his  death.     In  the  words  of  William  Wilson : 

"  Waning  life  and  weary, 

Fainting  heart  and  limb, 
Darkening  road  and  dreary, 

Flashing  eye  grown  dim  ; 
All  betokening  night-fall  near, 
Day  is  done  and  rest  is  dear." 


On  Monday  morning  he  declined  to  eat  his  breakfast, 
and  was  unable  to  take  his  usual  morning  walk.  Mrs. 
Audubon  bad  him  put  to  bed,  and  he  lay  without  apparent 
suffering,  but  refusing  to  receive  any  nourishment,  until 
five  o'clock  on  Thursday  morning,  January  27th,  185 1, 
when  a  deep  pallor  overspread  his  countenance.  The 
other  members  of  his  family  were  immediately  sent  for  to 
his  ^edside.  Then,  though  he  did  not  speak,  his  eyes, 
which  had  been  so  long  nearl\  quenched,  rekindled  into 
their  former  lustre  and  beauty ;  his  spirit  seemed  to  be 
conscious  that  it  was  approaching  the  spirit-land.  One 
<srf"  the  sons  aaid,  "  Minnie,  father's  eyes  have  now  their 
■fttural  expression  ; "  and  the  departing  man  reached  out 
his  arms,  took  his  wxfe's  and  children's  hands  between  his 
own,  and  passed  peacefully  away. 

Four  days  later  the  friends  and  neighbors,  together 
with  numerous  men  of  letters  and  savants  fiom  Nev» 
York,  who  were  not  deterred  by  the  stormy  day  from  at- 


Memento  Mori. 


443 


tending  Audubon's  unostentatious  funeral,  accompanied 
the  family  from  the  residence  to  the  resting  place  he  had 
chosen  for  himself  in  Trinity  Church  cemetery,  adjoining 
his  own  estate,  and  saw  his  remains  laid  tenderly  away 
by  those  who  loved  him  best,  in  the  family  vault,  where 
his  sons  have  since  been  placed  by  his  side. 


